


if only we prevail

by crimtastic



Series: if only [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Blood, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Infinity Gauntlet, Infinity Gems, Infinity Stone Soul World (Marvel), Loss, Mostly Canon Compliant, POV Multiple, Panic Attack Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Romance, Seizures, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-07-12 03:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 133,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15986924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimtastic/pseuds/crimtastic
Summary: Nothing could prepare Darcy for the moment that her sister in everything but blood disappeared like a whisper.Nothing could prepare Steve for the confused question from his brother in arms as he broke into pieces all over the ground.Nothing could prepare any of them for the eerie silence in watching half the world fade away on a gentle wind, let alone what came after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Holy smokes, here we are. I can't push this off anymore. I don't expect this to be anything like what Part 2 will look like, this is just an opportunity for me to enjoy my world some more. And put my own spin on it. This first bit literally starts in the pit of despair, so, uh, enjoy?
> 
> This would not exist without gideongrace’s support. Thank you so much. <3

An eerie silence falls as the sounds of snarls and yells cease. The creatures of hell simply retreat, disappearing back into their kennels, their purpose fulfilled. Steve is slowly coming to awareness, the punch laid into him moments ago knocking him almost completely out. When he was thrown to the ground, it reminded him of when he was small and fighting thugs in the back alleys of Brooklyn. He pushes himself up, that same determination from when he was nothing more than a scrap of tenacity spurring him on.

He sees the purple giant - _Thanos_ , Steve thinks, from Bruce's description of the conqueror - advance towards Wanda who is stooped over. A moment passes where the giant mumbles softly, words lost to the wind, and ruffles her hair affectionately with a mammoth sized hand. Everything about this moment feels surreal, the contradiction of this warrior giant being so gentle, and the concept of time becomes murky like a koi pond. There's a strange flash where Steve feels like Vision explodes, but no, Vision is there, he's screaming, glowing with light. Wanda jumps up to try and do _something_ but is only gently knocked away. Thanos rips out the stone in Visions forehead and tosses the android aside carelessly.

Steve's head feels filled with cotton, a foreign sensation after so many years of sharp alertness, and he's distracted by Wanda crawling slowly towards Vision's body. Thanos, slipping the last golden stone into his gauntlet, simply steps away as a shimmer of color streaks across his body.

There’s a crack of sound as Thor puts down his own effort in a blaze of light, and Steve scrambles back to begin breaking up the rocks encasing Natasha. Bucky appears and smashes through some of the rocks with his arm. Maybe with the distraction Thor’s giving them, they can rally together and take Thanos down. They manage to pull Natasha out right as Steve can hear Thor screaming. 

“What did you do?!”

Steve begins to sprint towards the voice, stopping when he sees Thor screaming into the giant’s face, his axe embedded into Thanos. 

“ _What’d you do?!_ ”

With a glance around, Thanos backs up into a smokey portal, which instantly closes dropping the axe on the ground.

Steve is panting, a rare mixture of exertion and panicked breathing, and it does nothing to help his calm that Thor looks just as alarmed. The eerie silence of the forest permeates the area once again. Steve pauses, the innocuous sounds of rustling leaves, the roar of the waterfalls in the distance, tranquility spreading through the forest and into the plains. 

“Where’d he go?” Steve asks, looking around in confusion, as if Thanos just disappeared in a mild magic trick and could pop up again at any moment.

“Thor? Where’d he go?” he repeats. Thor looks back past Steve in disbelief, looking strangely unnerved.

“Steve?”

Steve turns to the new voice.

Bucky is walking towards him, a confused look on his face as he holds up his vibranium hand, the edges beginning to disintegrate in front of their eyes. A beat passes as Bucky takes another step, the gun flipping in the air as he trips forward.

His body splits into tiny fragments, drifting through the air like tiny dust motes caught in the sun.

_Bucky._

A roaring sound cuts through the silence in his ears, an echo of pain. Pain that Steve feels cutting through him as he watches his best friend, his brother in arms, floating away into nothingness.

_No._

Steve touches the ground, fingers brushing against the remnants that flutter down there, the dust disappearing in front of his eyes. The sight of his friend’s demise makes no sense.

_Gone._

He falls back onto his ass, staring at the spot in confusion. Logic wars with his emotions, knowing that this had been coming. They knew many could be lost but not like this, not in a whisper to the wind.

_Not like this._

Natasha falters next to him, hand slapping down to grip his shoulder as she crouches. Her other hand shakes as she ruffles the leaves where Bucky fell into nothingness, blood dripping down the pinky of her left hand to the ground. Steve’s gaze snaps from her hand to her face, watching the tears course down Natasha’s cheeks silently.

He can hear screams, but his attention is snagged by the silent weeping of Wanda a few yards away. She is leaning over Vision’s body, having crawled there after realizing the futility of fighting further. A beat of a moment passes as she glances up to the sky before she splits into pieces gently over her lovers body, resigned into dust over Vision’s dead husk.

_Wanda._

“Oh, god,” he whispers.

_We failed._

“Have… who…” he falters his question after a long moment, an unsettling feeling of dread choking him as a woman with dark hair and a bewitching smile appears in his mind. _Darcy_. Steve shoves the thought aside.

“Thor. The raccoon. Bruce,” Natasha whispers out. “They’re still here.”

Steve turns, seeing creature bearing a resemblance to a raccoon in a jumpsuit leaning against a fallen tree trunk, hiding his face with his nose pointed at the ground. Thor is a few feet away, axe still flat on the ground next to him. Thor’s attention is focused on his arm, frowning as blood drips down the skin to the ground.

Thor thunders out a yell suddenly, lightning cracking over his features. Steve squints for a moment against being blinded, and the racoon snarls out in surprise.

“Hey, hey, calm down big guy!”

Thor pulls the axe to his hand in one of his pulling motions. Turning towards Steve, Thor stomps over to him while Steve slowly stands up.

“Is Lady Jane still in your London?” he demands.

“No,” Steve shakes his head, glad he has a frame of reference to the doctor’s movements.

“Jane Foster relocated here about a month ago,” Natasha states in a quiet voice.

Bruce approaches from behind Thor with his mask off, suit embedded with rock and one of the arms completely ripped off. “It’s good to see you, Thor. What hap-”

Bruce is interrupted by Thor throwing up his axe and blasting off of the ground into the sky, flying towards the city visible in the distance. Bruce looks a bit bewildered, watching Thor’s flight with a frown. The raccoon scowls at everyone before grumbling under his breath.

“You those Avengers Thor mentioned?” 

“No,” Steve refutes fiercely to the raccoon, “but we need to get to the base. We need to know…”

His voice cuts off and he rubs his hand over his face for a beat of a moment.

_Know who else we lost._

Slightly more collected, Steve glances down at the grayed husk of Vision’s body. His dark form is laid stiff against the dirt, his eyes empty underneath a cracked open forehead bearing the violence of his death. Steve starts to gather Vision’s stiff arm over his shoulder as gently as he can and heaves him up. The screams have quieted, and he begins to walk forward towards the convoy parked a few miles away, Visions body only slightly heavier than what he expected. He feels a mild relief at having a purpose, even if it’s just physical labor. The others, even the raccoon, follow him.

Steve can see Okoye stumbling through the trees with Rhodey to convene with their moving position, the fierce woman wearing a similar expression as Natasha, a determined grief lined with tears.

“He was here. _This is no place to die!_ He was helping me up. _My King!_ ” Okoye’s voice, usually so tough, is inconsolable as she pleads quietly. She grips at Rhodey’s arm, who is leading her to their small group, face grim.

_T’Challa._

“Any comms?” Steve asks with a cracked voice. Natasha shakes her head.

“I’ll stay here, I saw Sam go down in that thicket,” Rhodey pauses as he and Okoye approach, motioning behind him, “I just have to find him, maybe his equipment is disabled.” 

Bruce, in the battered Hulkbuster suit, shakes his head at the readings that show to the side of his face.

“There’s no sign of his equipment, or even a heat signature of a human. Maybe he flew back to base?” Bruce’s voice is strained.

Steve is struck with a terrible certainty that Sam didn’t fly back. He wouldn’t leave the team, especially without knowing if Thanos had been dealt with or not.

_Sam._

The list is growing in his head, and he feels a military detachment split his thoughts at who else they will find missing back at the base. He’s not quite successful at keeping the image of Darcy from flashing through his mind. As they approach the convoy, Okoye is spotted from afar. A meager group of _Dora Milaje_ run up to her. Okoye wears a tear streaked face, but rallies her composure for her unit and shakes her head.

“Our King is no longer here,” Okoye states, “I saw it. Witnessed it.”

The cries of disbelief echo around her as Steve manages to arrange Vision’s body on a ship. Okoye’s voice rises as she calls out over the confusion.

“ _We_ are Wakanda. And we will make our King proud,” she asserts, “where is Shuri? Has anyone heard or seen Shuri?”

As Okoye figures out logistics of returning to the city, Steve throws himself onto the floor of the ship next to Vision’s body. The sounds of repressed sobs and stuttering breaths are too close, too loud, _too much_. A blast of sound assaults his senses as the ship lifts up, the quiet roar a relief as it deadens the sounds he’s trying so hard to ignore. The rest of the group climbs onto the ship, but Steve’s mind is revolving over the ever expanding list of the lost and how much larger it’s bound to grow. He rests his elbows on his knees, thumbs coming to rest on his forehead as he allows a grimace to overtake his face.

_I failed._

* * *

_Bzzz._

Darcy presses her forehead to the cold floor, breath releasing in sharp bursts. In, in, in, out, in, in, out, out. It’s a strange staccato of her lungs efforts to gain purchase over her mind’s irrational response.

_Bzzz._

Her hands are threaded through her hair, covering her ears, eyes squeezed shut. In, in, out, out, in, out, out. The beat of breath struggling to slow down.

_Bzzz._

The bony top of Darcy’s feet press uncomfortably against the ground, knees already protesting from the duration of the position. Her head is a bit dizzy.

Silence.

_Darcy, look at these readings!_

That sharp interest of glee, the glint of mischief, ever present in Jane’s eyes with new science to explore. Spikes were coming and going in quick succession, a giant rift of _something_ happening, and more spikes. Jane squeezing Darcy’s arm to pull her to the graphs and meters and every other manner of patched up coded recording software they had ever built on the monitors. 

Then a sudden drop of feeling, like the skin on Darcy’s arm had gone numb. Darcy turning to look at Jane, finding her friend’s expression confused as Jane held up her other hand, particles floating off her in tiny flecks. The puzzled crease of Jane’s eyebrows, face suddenly pale. Her brown eyes growing resigned as they locked with Darcy’s horrified blue ones.

_No._

Darcy tried to reach out, but her hand only felt tiny pinpricks. Time suspended in a single grave moment as she slowly observed Jane’s dissolution.

_Bzzz._

Darcy’s breath is impossible to control, the panic attack overtaking her before she could even think to start one of the mantras Dr. Onek had supplied her from their therapy sessions.

_Bzzz._

Jane’s phone, vibrating for who knows how long, finally makes its final leap off of the counter top and clatters to the floor.

Silence.

Darcy finally opens her eyes, the dark cave of her legs and hair shielding her from the outside world. Light seeps in from cracks, which are blurry. She realizes her eyes are waterlogged with tears. Finally, her brain latches onto words.

_This is only a moment. This is only a moment. This is only a moment._

She can feel a dull thrum through the floor. Her breath is still coming through in jagged bursts, but she presses herself up, tears spilling from her eyes. She can see a light sheen of dust all over her clothes and closes her eyes.

_This is only a moment. This is only a moment._

The floor is practically humming with untapped energy. Darcy ignores it, her breaths only shifting to a lower tempo by a slight bit.

_This is only a moment._

“Jane!”

Her hands are still over her ears, eyes closed, senses trying to shut down and Darcy flinches at the booming voice from the doorway. 

“This is only a moment,” whispers out of her, trying to regain her focus. “A moment, a moment, a moment.”

“Darcy.”

A large hand touches her shoulder, shocking energy into her. Darcy’s eyes fly open, her hands on her ears dropping away from her head as a sharp inhale finally connects into a deep breath. A moment passes before she exhales with a shudder and she turns to the voice.

Thor has a stricken expression marring his face, looking remarkably foreign with hair cut jaggedly short and heterochromatic eyes. Darcy can feel electrical currents whisper through his hand, slight sparks visible in the edges of his skin but they’re somehow painless, somehow grounding her.

“Thor,” she breathes out.

“Where is Jane?” he asks softly. Resignation clouds his features.

“She… she was here. I kept her safe. She was right here. I always kept her safe. _Right here_. Where is Jane? Jane. Jane,” Darcy feels hysteria try to build in her gut again, unable to rectify what she just watched with the dust on her clothes.

Thor squeezes her shoulder again and a wave of charge flows gently through her. The frenzy inside of her dies down.

“Shield sister, were you watching the battle?” Thor asks quietly.

Darcy nods with a sharp sniff.

“Through the devices. We were watching the energy readings, _there were so many_ ,” Darcy stutters out, gulping down air. Her heart rate is slowing, finally, and a wave of weariness hits her, the adrenaline from the panic attack fading. She glances up at the monitor, seeing a wave of tiny pings appear on the screen in rapid succession.

Frowning, she grabs at the edge of the counter top to pull herself up. Her legs don’t want to cooperate, going numb from her awkward position on the floor, but she hoists herself up anyways. Thor removes his hand from her shoulder to press up on her elbow, stabilizing her. 

“What… what is _that_?” Darcy asks, fingers brushing against the screen.

“I know nothing of your science, Darcy, but I can venture to say that Thanos’ whole purpose is to cull every society by half. You are quite possibly witnessing the elimination of half of the Midgardian population.”

Darcy glances at Thor with wide eyes.

“Vision was wrong?” she asks. “His warning made it out that we would all die for defying him.”

“Vision is dead,” Thor states. “The Mind Stone was ripped from his body, the sixth and last one to complete the set.”

Darcy blinks in rapid succession, thoughts askew.

“Where is Wanda? She went to meet up with him… she would not have left him.”

Thor’s mouth sets in a grim line, before saying softly, “she fought bravely. She will be honored.”

“I… I have to..”

Thor gives her a somber nod, understanding. Darcy presses away from the counter, stumbling for a moment before gaining her balance. She pauses at the doorway, turning to see Thor sitting down on the floor, looking at the dust there. His arm is dripping blood onto the ground, which Darcy isn’t sure why she notes, but refuses to be distracted her from her purpose. She walks through the door, into the hall.

Once out of the small room, a renewed energy surges inside of her, prompting her to run. _Steve, where’s Steve?_ The beat of her feet hitting the floor fills her head as she sees people sobbing, collapsed upon each other in sorrow. Breaths puff in and out of her, some people milling about looking lost and confused, as if uncertain of what they’re supposed to be doing in this fragmented apocalypse. Darcy stares at her feet as she goes, careful to avoid particularly thick patches of dust, knowing exactly what, but not whom, was there moments prior.

_What happened? How did Thanos do **this**? Is Steve still here?_

The questions swirl inside her as she bursts through the doors to the outdoor platform, looking over the plains, eyes scouting for any of the convoys. There’s the remnants of debris around her as she notices the makeshift lab in the higher floors above her have been blasted through, and she sees Shuri speaking with a group of people. Darcy approaches the group and notices Shuri’s face is struggling to stay impassive amidst concern.

“Have you heard anything?” Darcy asks as she approaches her. Shuri shakes her head.

“Comms were knocked out in that-” Shuri waves up at the building, “-explosion. We’re getting garbled reports, but the convoy is en route back. They should be arriving…” Shuri breaks off, eyebrows lifting as she spots a handful of vehicles approaching from the direction battle took place at. 

Darcy feels her heart catch in her throat as the numbers are so dwindling in comparison to who she saw leave earlier that day.

_Thanos took more than half._

There’s a spike of anxiety when she can’t see anyone but Wakandans. Okoye departs a ship that reaches Shuri and Darcy first, a sorrowful expression mixed with determination on her face. Darcy moves away from them, towards the end of the landing platform and the anxiety notches up when she only sees Natasha and Rhodey. So few from the group of people she said farewell to earlier.

_Where’s Steve?_

Darcy cringes at the keening cry that emits from behind her, glancing back and seeing the younger woman in Okoye’s arms. “My brother!”

The lamentations of grief wail everywhere with the news of the King of Wakanda being lost.

She turns her attention back to the last ship as it makes it’s approach. Darcy knows it’s beyond worse when she can see Natasha’s tear stained cheeks and Rhodey not even attempting to stay stoic. Her heart feels like it’s on the edge, about to topple to a hard surface and shatter.

_Where’s Steve?_

The ship finally slows to a stop and people begin to jump out, Natasha pulling open the gate where Darcy can see Visions body on the floor and the defeated form of Steve sitting behind, arms resting on his knees.

A garbled cry escapes her as she presses past the pitifully few people exiting and launches herself into the ship. Steve has only a moment to drop his legs and open his arms before she’s throwing herself sideways into his lap, clinging to his neck.

“You’re here, you’re here, you didn’t disappear, you’re here,” blubbers out of her.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “But Bucky… Sam...”

Darcy pulls away, hands coming up to the sides of his face, nodding sadly.

“Jane.”

“So many others, Darcy, I can’t even fathom it…” Steve begins, leaning his forehead against hers.

Her mind pings over the last few hours. The anxiety of the battle at their doorstep, the spikes of fear at the explosions, Jane _gone_. All of the terror and pain and uncertainty if any of their friends would make it to the other side. Tears drip down her face, and she’s not certain if it’s due to relief at Steve being alive or in grief for all her lost friends.

The moment lingers, her hands against his face and his arms around her back. The sorrow on each of their face is mirrored, but Darcy begins to feel a somber equilibrium for the first time in hours. It settles down into her bones, the inexplicable connection of marks soothing beyond anything else.

_Surviving is only a kindness because I’m here with you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have no restraint and couldn't possibly leave the weekend without adding this chapter as well. They've been intertwined in my head for far too long. I'm too excited. <3

Swirls. Strands reaching out for each other until they snap together, a form materializing.

Consciousness clicks and Bucky finds himself falling forward, his mind caught in the motion he had started elsewhere. He catches himself with one arm, habit ingrained, and begins to right himself, pressing up on… nothing?

_Where am I?_

He flips around onto his back, not really sure what kind of texture he’s touching as he lurches to his feet. Darting his eyes around, the area is devoid of people or things or even a properly discernible ground. It stretches from him like an endless sea. As nothing seems threatening, he inspects his body, feeling his chest with his hands. A beat passes until he realizes he’s using _both_ of his hands, and he holds up his left hand. The flesh hand he hasn’t seen since that fateful train ride into the snowy alps.

His String, bundled around as if knotted, is embedded into his pinky and a shimmer of blue pulses through it slowly.

_My mark._

Bucky is sure he hasn’t seen his mark since losing his arm, and it was always listless, pointing to the ground. It had never banded to him, completed, and he would have noticed it changing color from the deep red it had always presented itself as. Later, when he had the metal arm, it was completely gone. _Ghosts have no marks_ , his handlers had said.

Behind Bucky, a cry prompts him to spin around, watching a form materialize in front of him, strands knitting into a little boy. Tears are pouring down the boys face, and he looks around fearfully. Seeing Bucky looking at him, he jumps up and flings himself at Bucky’s midsection.

“ _I don’t want to be dead_.”

The tearful boys words are in a foreign tongue to Bucky, but the sentiment is felt through the space as if Bucky can understand. Bucky notices more forms slowly forming at a consistent rate, and pats the boy awkwardly on the shoulder.

“You’re not dead,” a voice calls out, and Bucky attaches it to a slip of a brunette who steps around a rather tall man who has appeared. As she approaches them, he instantly recognizes her as Jane Foster.

“ _Then what are we?_ ”

“Waiting,” Jane crouches next to the boy, a sad smile on her face.

“ _M’Toka!_ ” is called out.

The boy glances away, the name hovering in the air, and dashes off to cling to an older woman. Jane gives them a sympathetic look before tilting her head at Bucky.

“You have your arm,” she notes, motioning to the limb. “Is that your mark?”

“Er… yeah. I thought it went with my arm.”

Jane darts out to grab for his hand, and Bucky pulls back in uncertainty. Her eyebrows raise as if asking _really?_

“Look, you should warn a guy before manhandling them,” he grumbles.

“Well, there’s results in surprising you,” she states, motioning at his hand again.

Bucky looks down and glares as he sees a familiar older metal arm, giant red star on the shoulder, mark gone.

“How…?” he begins to ask, but Jane is already interrupting him.

“You are what you think you are. I can assume when you feel threatened, directly at least, your mind reverts to something more capable of handling threats,” she says. 

As if to prove her point, Jane’s hair shimmers a moment before it’s suddenly shortened from the long tresses, a jagged haircut up by her ears. She grins.

“See? Junior year I had… difficulties, so my hair was more like this. This world is our reality, Bucky, and you just proved it to me.”

Jane then pulls up on a sleeve, baring her own arm to him, a scrawl of writing spelling out _EARTH 35°28'13.1"N 105°50'56.0"W_. It is a shimmery blue akin to Bucky’s string, pulsing with that same unusual light.

“I have to say, this feels a bit scandalous,” she breathes out in a chuckle. “You’re not supposed to _talk_ about marks, and now I’m just flashing it at anyone…”

Bucky huffs a laugh, relaxing marginally.

“But here we are, in an endlessly filling void, and you can see my mark. Right?” Jane asks in a quick voice. He tries to relax more, frowning at his left hand and the metal that is still there. A moment later, there’s a shimmer and his flesh hand is back, mark visible once again.

“Barnes!” a voice calls out, and Bucky turns to see Sam approaching the pair. “Am I glad to see a familiar face, even if it is your sullen ass. Ah, and Dr. Foster!”

Bucky turns back to Jane, holding up his left hand, the mark of his string banded around his pinky.

“I haven’t seen this string since 1945. It wasn’t banded and complete then. You’re telling me that no matter how my body might’ve been abused, my... self? My consciousness? Never lost it?” he asks. Sam’s eyebrows raise at the topic.

“You lost your arm, Barnes, not your soul, no matter what HYDRA might have attempted. Do you think Matched amputees lose the connection with their Matches the moment of their incidents?” Sam replies before Jane can, who then interjects.

“Exactly. But you say you didn’t see it completed when we were on Earth. Does that mean you don’t know who your Match is?”

Bucky shakes his head. Thoughts ping around his head, mind clear for once, as he considers the sheer possibility of how many he’d met without knowing himself. Jane wrinkles her nose, a frustrated expression growing on her face.

“I thought it was gone. And I was pulled out of the ice so often, so randomly... it could be anyone,” Bucky says as his face goes white. “God, what if I killed them?”

“Unlikely. What about you, Sam?” Jane interjects, abruptly brushing aside Bucky’s concern. “Marked or not?”

Sam shakes his head.

“I never had a mark, no Match to find. But I am curious about these,” he says, a pair of dark brown feathers bursting from his back in the form of two large wings. Jane snorts as Bucky takes an uncertain step back.

“As I was telling Barnes here, we are what we want to be. I’m assuming your work in the skies has manifested into your personality, ergo, wings. We need to find someone who’s Match has been confirmed as dead, as horrific as that is,” Jane announces, prepared to take a step away to a nearby couple, when Bucky holds up a hand to wait. He can hear an argument, a pair of men walking closer straight to their position.

“Look, if you’re all knowing, why’d you get us all killed? I didn’t sign up for death, none of my team did!” the voice is laced with anger, spoken from a slightly burly man with auburn hair cut short. His words are directed at a taller man with a sophisticated gait, sharp features framed by the collar of a magnificent red cloak, who is walking straight towards them.

“No, you ‘signed up’ to be the scapegoat,” is the acerbic reply.

“Excuse me, what?”

The man comes to a stop in front of the group of Bucky, Sam, and Jane, turning to his companion with a sigh.

“The Time Stone, or Eye of Agamotto I usually wear around my neck, showed me many paths. Out of the 14 million, six hundred and four failures, this is only one step that eliminated 11 million of them. The simple fact that without loss, there cannot be gain. We will simply have to trust that the other players will be in their correct positions as we are here,” he states impatiently then nods his head, “Dr. Foster, Wilson, and Barnes, I presume? I am Dr. Strange. Please, come with me.” 

The strange man continues on his walk, following a specific direction, and the auburn haired man gives them a glare before following after him. Bucky shrugs at the other two and falls in step behind them.

Dr. Strange leads them to another set of three people who are staring at a woman hunched over in the middle of an area that is filled with red energy. Bucky recognizes the form in the middle of the whorls of red as Wanda, her hair is spilling over her shoulders as she sobs. Bucky notices another woman with antenna attached to her pale face looking on in concern with unsettlingly large eyes, and the teenager boy looks worried. The last man, intimidating with his large grey form scarred in crimson, looks bored.

“Wanda?” Sam begins to step in front of Strange, hand outreached towards the woman easily ten feet away. The red swirls crackle in anger and her sobs continue, which causes Dr. Strange to shake his head.

“Ms. Maximoff may need a moment of time. You should wait here as I gather others,” Strange says, heading back out into the crowd. Sam frowns, kneeling down to try and get Wanda’s attention. Jane is watching the red energy with a mixed expression of fear and intense curiosity, but Bucky can see how uncomfortable it makes her as she places herself the furthest from it. The rest of the group stare at each other uneasily until the teenager breaks the silence.

“So where’d your metal arm go, dude? It was super cool.”

Bucky knows that voice, and swears under his breath, the metal arm appearing before he can help himself.

“What, this one?” he’s instantly angry, knowing that the agile kid from the airport in Germany somehow involved himself in an altercation beyond his understanding. There’s a bitter tang of familiarity, and he’s struck with a mad thought of the kid being just like Steve.

_Thank god the punk isn’t here, though, I’d have to babysit both of them._

“Hey, cool it man, he just asked a question,” the burly man shifts closer to the teen, who rolls his eyes.

“Thanks, Mr. Star-Lord, but we’ve met. Sort of. Mr. Stark was kind of low on the details to be honest...”

“Well, we’re not in Germany anymore, are we, Spiderling?” Bucky replies, which causes Sam to look up from his position of coaxing Wanda, taking in the skinny teen with a frown.

“Spider- _Man_. Or Peter Parker, if you’d rather,” the kid has the audacity to stick out his hand, expression all earnest and bright. Bucky purses his lips to avoid frowning too deeply, a strange sort of familiarity of the moment feeling grim, but accepts the handshake.

“Bucky Barnes. Sorry about throwing a sign at you,” he nods to Sam and Jane. “You’d remember Sam Wilson and this is Jane Foster.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, “... _the_ Jane Foster?”

Jane blinks to attention from where she is eyeing Wanda distrustfully.

“What?”

“The Dr. Jane Foster who was in line for a Nobel Prize for her work on interstellar teleportation?” Peter looks practically giddy, and the man he referred to as Star-Lord gives Bucky a confused look.

“I want to know why you have the name of a buddy of Captain America. Parents a big fan of comics or something?” 

“Oh, he knows Captain America, I saw them in Germany together. With Falcon and, uh, that woman over there,” Peter brushes this off nonchalantly as he crowds up to Jane’s space, firing questions about her work. Jane sends an alarmed look to Bucky who shrugs.

“You said Captain America died in the ocean, Quill,” the grey man interjects. The pale woman nods earnestly.

“Right, what the hell, man? Captain America died in the Arctic, everyone knows that,” is the auburn haired man’s incredulous reply.

Bucky sighs.

“And I thought I was out of date. You, obviously, are from Earth,” Bucky gestures with his left hand, once again flesh, from the burly man to his companions, “but who are you guys?”

“I am Drax, and this is Mantis. We are a part of the Guardians of the Galaxy with Peter Quill here,” the grey man explains simply.

“Star-Lord! Drax, c’mon, how many times do we have to go over this?” Quill looks frustrated, “and yeah, I’m from Earth. What of it?”

“Do any of you have marks?” Jane interrupts the younger Peter’s line of questioning by holding up her hand. Peter’s arm shoots up, but Jane ignores him. Drax and Quill do as well, which prompts Mantis to hold up her hand slightly in confusion.

“Have any of them, uh, passed on?” Jane continues. Mantis and Quill immediately glance at Drax, who nods.

“My Hovat was murdered with my daughter by that Kree bastard, Ronan.”

“May I see your mark?” Jane asks, which prompts Drax to begin unbuttoning his pants.

“Whoa, whoa, Drax, no one wants to see that, c’mon!” Quill protests, but Jane is focused on Drax’s body, unperturbed.

“It is only right here,” Drax states, pulling the edge of his pants down to the bottom of his hip, a square with an intricate filigree swirling in the box. Without knowing better, Bucky would assume it was a simple tattoo, the dark lines completely still.

“Oh, thank god,” Jane breathes out, looking down at her arm again. Bucky glances at his own mark, suddenly relieved at the pulsing it’s emitting, realizing that it meant his match is still alive, wherever they were.

“Going to clue us in, lady?” Quill asks as Drax fastens his clothing back appropriately, “what are you looking for?”

Jane sticks her arm out, coordinates pulsing with a blue light. “This glowing must mean my match isn’t dead. I mean, it’s not much to go on, but I’m in purgatory with a bunch of aliens without my equipment, so I’m making do with what I’ve got.”

“Wanda?” Sam asks suddenly, and they turn to see the red energy finally calming down a bit, Wanda’s form more visible under her hair.

“Wanda?” Sam repeats, hand outstretched. Wanda looks up, eyes glowing red and wild.

“Sam?” she asks in a quiet clogged voice.

“Hey, Wanda, hey. You’re not alone. We’re here,” he edges closer carefully, and Wanda suddenly realizes that her energy is pressing against him and it disappears in a quick flurry.

“Sam, I, I, I did it. I destroyed it, destroyed him! But he just... he just... brought it back and ripped it out, and Vis is _gone_! I, I thought it’d be a relief, a relief to die, but _Vis isn’t here_!” Wanda gasps out. Sam nods.

“I know, Wanda, I saw what you had to do. I saw. I understand...”

Dr. Strange returns at this moment with T’Challa and a tree-like form lumbering behind him.

“Ms. Maximoff, I apologize for my abruptness, but I believe you need to meet Mantis properly,” Strange states. Mantis steps up, as if able to read Strange’s intentions and gives a flicker of a smile to the redhead.

“Hello,” Wanda says in a quiet voice and Mantis sits down next to her, holding out her hand.

Wanda takes it and a breath rushes out of her. Her eyes close and she slumps over into Mantis’ lap. Sam makes an alarmed sound.

“What’re you doing to her?” he demands.

“S’okay, Sam,” Wanda mumbles. “Like recognizes like, kind to kind.”

“Your friend is very pained, Sam Wilson. I help with pain, it is my purpose,” Mantis says softly, another hand coming up to brush Wanda’s hair tenderly. “So much pain for the choice that was not a choice, but an inevitability. Oh, I can feel so much, Wanda.”

Mantis’ has tears coursing down her cheeks and Dr. Strange motions for Sam to leave them be. Sam looks bewildered but stands up next to Bucky, nodding at T’Challa. The others had ignored this moment and burst into greeting at the tree-like form.

“Groot!”

“I am Groot,” the tree states, and Bucky knows he’s wearing a confused expression as the others begin responding to him. Fortunately, the younger Peter and Jane look just as confused.

“Oh, so his ‘quest’ was successful then?” Quill asks.

“I am Groot.”

“Dude, that’s awesome. Hacked off your own arm and everything? Taking one for the team!” Quill pats him on the back. “Ah, fuck, though. Rocket’s alone, isn’t he? We’re almost all here...”

“Rocket traveled with Groot to Earth with Thor, so he’s in the correct place,” Dr. Strange states.

“Thor?” Jane asks, glancing at Bucky and Sam for confirmation. “He came back to Earth?”

“Yeah, he appeared with... uh, Groot, over there, and a talking raccoon who wanted to buy my rifle,” Bucky replies. “Was a fair shot, too.”

Quill snorts.

“Yeah, sure, buy your rifle. Damn, everyone seems to know Thor.”

“Only by association, he was an Avenger until they broke up all messily,” Parker notes, “actually, I bet he doesn’t even know about that, he’s not been seen in what, three years?”

“About that, yes,” Jane confirms, looking up while biting her lip. “Although I heard he made a stop a couple months ago.”

“Yes, he came looking for his father. His brother had dumped their father on Earth,” Dr. Strange looks placidly on. “They left shortly after.”

Jane blinks, asking, “Loki’s alive?”

“Thor and Loki had a bit of an altercation on the coast of Norway, but left soon after, so I assume he’s in good health,” Strange replies.

“I am Groot,” the tree interjects.

“Right, he almost doesn’t sound like the same guy,” Quill snorts. “The Thor we met was down to the last thread.”

“What do you mean?” Jane demands.

“Had a long sob story about how everyone was dead which is why he was on his way to build some new hammer,” is the annoyed reply from Quill.

“Hammer? Why wouldn’t he just use Mjolnir?” she asks, eyes widening at his confusion.

“I am Groot.”

“He didn’t have any hammer. Was drifting in space when we found him, one-eyed, beaten to hell. Surprised he was even alive,” Quill states. Jane’s face goes white.

“I assume that altercation in Norway caused a bigger spatial crisis than we realized, then,” Strange murmurs to himself. “I did find fragments of a strange metal exploded in that field, so that may have been the remnants of Mjolnir...”

“How could that have happened?” Jane whispers, looking ill.

“Your guess is as good as mine, lady, but obviously the guy’s seen things,” Quill replies.

“That ‘guy’ wielded a weapon so formidable that it made Thanos cry out in pain,” T’Challa remarks, but Quill ignores him and continues on.

“What are we waiting for anyways, Magic Man?” Quill asks. “I’m getting antsy for some action. Gotta go save Gamora still. Can’t do that as a ghost, so tell me how we fix this, since you saw all of the futures or whatever.”

Dr. Strange pauses, giving Quill an evaluating look before turning to look down at Wanda who has been ignoring the conversation with Mantis.

“For once, all we have is time,” he says.

“Who’s Gamora?” Sam asks, which makes Peter Parker groan aloud, “not this again!”

“She’s my Match, okay? Thanos took her,” Quill mutters, “and we keep getting side tracked by some sparkly stones to go get her from that purple asshole.”

“Considering those ‘sparkly stones’ are the reason for our present non corporeal situation, I would think you’d take this more seriously. Especially since we already know her fate, which is the second reason we’re in this situation,” Strange bites out.

“I don’t believe it, Mantis can make mistakes... hell, she was cruising with dear old dad for ages until we picked her up, Thanos is pretty strong, right? She probably misread him,” Quill says stubbornly. Drax shifts, anger spiking on his facial features and Mantis looks up.

“She’s _gone_ , Peter,” she states, eyes wide and earnest. Bucky knows without a doubt that Mantis is completely assured, prevarication impossible for the creature.

“Can I see your mark?” Jane interrupts, addressing Quill. Strange sends her a calculating look.

Quill frowns but pulls on the collar of his shirt, a bundle of tiny words inscribed along the top of his collarbone. _I fooled around and fell in love, since I met you baby_ is dark against his skin, completely black, in a spot where Quill can’t see.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Jane states, frowning.

“What?” Quill demands, “what’s it doing?”

“Nothing,” she replies.

“And it won’t, Quill, because Gamora is dead,” Strange adds. “It’s as solid as Drax’s mark.”

Quill glances at everyone, eyes suddenly wild and betrayed. “Fuck you guys,” he spits out and walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sheer bulk of people to juggle is hard. I'm trying to make sure everyone gets some sort of acknowledgment, but goodness, it's hard. I have so much sympathy for the writers for Infinity War after starting this, heh.
> 
> I adore you all. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is still fairly interesting, since it rehashes a bunch of stuff. It's difficult to balance 'I want to see how everyone reacts to news' and 'readers literally saw these movies, they don't need it explained all over again' haha.
> 
> So I guess, Thor : Ragnarok spoilers, just in case someone didn't get around to that movie amidst all of this.

Darcy remembers the day of the attack on New York by the Chitauri. She had been ensconced safely away with Jane in Tromsø at the time, watching the TV with rapt attention. Monstrous aliens bursting out of a portal the size of a football field, the eerie light filtering out the sun and promising darkness. Awkward angles were shown from abandoned cameras, eventually knocked over, a live feed on the action of the six Avengers as they attempted to contain the threat that had been overtaking the city.

She remembers being in the middle of the Dark Elves fight in London. If you looked close enough at the footage, you could see her blurry form struggling with Ian to put up the rods that Erik and Jane had built. Explosions and damage and screams were everywhere, and Darcy had been too frantic at the time to care.

This is nothing like that.

She squeezes Steve’s hand as they watch the TV centered on a wall set to a news channel. It is a small comfort afforded to Darcy as there’s an endless stream of footage showing, vehicles crashing into each other as people disappear on screen, the cries of fear and pain as the world grinds to a halt. The TV continues to show scenery flickering through all the impact hitting the globe. Named cities scroll on the bottom with an ever increasing tally of destruction.

A shot of Avengers Tower is shown, a wave of Iron Legion droids filing out of the building to rush towards fatal scenes to help, but the hatch is suddenly blocked as a helicopter crashes into it. Darcy feels her stomach drop, watching the Tower shake and lighting flutter as it struggles to stabilize. A wave of helplessness hits her. 

Even when she was in the thick of action in London, she only had to go a couple blocks over before the world returned to a normal without fire or broken glass or tears. Now she won’t be able to look out of a window without seeing destruction. Darcy can’t go home without the scars of loss. She knows it’s everywhere. 

There is no escape.

Darcy turns away from the TV, unable to watch any longer. Instead she glances up at Steve, squeezing his hand again. He looks down at her, somber, before nodding as she releases his hand and walks over to sit down in a chair at the table. Steve then walks over to listen to a determined Okoye who is working on the logistics of how to handle the catastrophe to a handful of Wakandans. A tearfully silent Shuri watches on, nodding when necessary.

Bruce Banner is a few chairs down from Darcy’s spot, frowning at an empty spot on the table. She compares him to the photo that she remembers from the Biochemistry building at Culver, one of the first stops on her freshman tour years ago, and takes in his older countenance with a thoughtful expression.

“You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” she murmurs, which causes him to look up from where he was staring at the table. He squints at her as if trying to place her.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Banner,” she holds out her hand, “Darcy Lewis.”

He frowns at her hand, before taking and shaking it for as short a moment as possible. “Am I really that famous?”

“To the world? Eh, you got some work to do to become the next Carl Sagan, even with all those fancy smancy degrees. To a Culver graduate? Yes,” she states, shrugging.

“Ah, Culver. What about... what about the other guy?” Bruce shifts in his seat.

“You mean Hulk?” she asks, too drained for beating around the bush. It reminds her of when she met Wanda, the same reluctance riding Bruce’s features, almost skittish, as if waiting for her to turn accusing. Natasha glances over at them from her seat in a corner, frowning.

“Er... right,” he mutters.

“Can’t say he’s not unknown, really, but mostly because you both pulled that disappearing act. Where’d you even end up?” Darcy asks. “You’ve been gone as long as Thor.”

“Planet named Sakaar. Hulk was running rampant the whole time, so I don’t really remember much about it until Thor found me. How did you end up here? You seem pretty... ordinary.”

“Oh, I’m longtime buds with Thor. Tazed him when he landed here in ‘11. But I do work with Dr... Dr. Jane Foster,” she struggles to say Jane’s name, flinching. “It’s only recently that I found my way here, though. It’s kind of a story.”

“And, uh, you’re Steve’s...” Bruce trails off, eyebrow quirked up.

“Ummm, yeah. His Match. That’s part of the story. I don’t quite understand how or why,” Darcy says, looking over at Steve. He glances over at her, eyebrows raising, and she knows he heard her. Darcy shrugs in response. “Fate has been playing some intense soulmark darts throwing him over a century for his Match. And don’t even get me started on the bullshit Ross threw into the mix.”

Bruce frowns at the name of Ross, which, considering the damage she herself had suffered from the government man’s machinations, Darcy really can’t blame Bruce for his reaction. 

“But to answer your question, the reason I seem ordinary is because I am. I’m not a genius, not strong or magical, I just...” she pauses a moment before finding herself wearing a strained expression, “...am painfully normal.”

“We could probably use a little normal,” Bruce replies kindly. “It’s almost more unusual than...”

Bruce breaks off as Thor suddenly walks into the room. The tall Asgardian glances around at the rest of the team assembled there, and drops his large axe on the table. The raccoon creature follows at his heels, muttering under his breath.

“Someone talk some sense into this idiot, I’ve done my part,” he growls before hopping into the first available chair.

“Thor, it’s really good to see you,” Steve says, stepping away from the group of Wakandans. Thor’s arrival has interrupted their conference and some of the Wakandans nod before leaving the room. Darcy notices Shuri’s eye catch that familiar spark of scientific interest when presented a new curiosity, and the princess walks over to the table to look at the axe. 

“Steven Rogers, it was glorious to meet with you in battle once more. I will be departing momentarily, but would like to extend an offer to whomever would like to rally with me and defeat Thanos,” Thor declares.

A silence permeates the room. Shuri pauses at where she is reaching out to touch the axe and Okoye arches an eyebrow. Steve narrows his eyes and glances at an obviously tense Natasha. Bruce sighs, looking resigned and the raccoon breaks the silence with a snort.

“Told ya, they think you’re a moron.”

“What the hell do you mean by rally, Thor?” Darcy’s voice is cutting, an anger simmering low in her gut. She pushes away from the table to stand and walk over to glare up at the tall Asgardian. “Pretty sure that’s how you end up dead!”

“That’s what I said!” the raccoon agrees.

“Darcy, you know I must do this,” Thor says softly in a cajoline tone. “I have the means to defeat him, and if others wish to join me in the final battle, I will give them opportunity to do so.”

“But why now? Why right this second? We haven’t even recovered from...” Darcy is frustrated at how quickly her anger shifts into grief, tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She swipes at her face furiously, and Thor pats her on the head understandingly. She glares up at him and sees blood dripping off his arm.

“The Fri-” she suddenly sucks in her breath, cutting herself short from saying Thor’s mother’s name aloud. Breathing out, she tries again in a calmer manner. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Ah, this happened not long after Thanos’ departed. Lady Jane was taken from us at that moment, was she not?” he asks quietly, continuing at her acknowledging grimace. “My mark is not dead, therefore neither is she. I shall defeat Thanos and bring Lady Jane back from where she has been taken from us.”

“But I can see it, Thor.”

“Ah. I forget you Midgardians keep them hidden,” he replies, a fond expression growing on his face. Darcy is so flabbergasted at the accusation that she looks around for support, and notices Natasha’s alarmed face, staring down at her hand in confusion.

“What do you mean ‘keep them hidden’? It’s not like there’s an on and off switch,” Darcy grumbles up at him. “The only choice is if you want to pursue the Match or not, if you’re lucky to know you’ve met them. Are you telling me you can see everyone’s mark?”

“Of course,” Thor tilts his head as if confused by the question. Darcy rubs at her temples a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“So my brothers Match could confirm if he is dead or not?” Shuri interjects, her question ringing across the room. Okoye immediately grabs at the bracelet on her wrist and begins flipping through the projected screens.

“I will say it’s very likely,” he responds. Shuri walks over to Okoye and they glance at the projection from Okoye’s wrist before quitting the room entirely. Darcy watches from the corner of her eye as Natasha slips out of a different door, an unreadable expression on the spy’s face.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d give us a couple of days, Thor,” Steve says, causing Darcy to glance warily at him. “I’m sure others would like to be part of a team after Thanos, including myself, but we need to know what we’re working with here. Do you even know where Thanos went?”

“Well, no,” Thor actually looks sheepish by the admission and rubs the back of his neck. “But he is rather infamous in the stars, however, so I doubt it will be difficult to find him.”

“Infamous? He just committed mass galactic genocide, he better be hiding under a rock with all the alien races that are bound to come together against him!” Darcy grumbles, throwing herself into a chair next to the raccoon.

“What’s your name, anyways?” she says to the creature.

“Rocket. See, I find it funny how a guy found in the dead of space says he has nothing left to lose, seems pretty believable, right? Floating seemingly dead in the vast void of space and all that. But then he takes us to the one planet where there still seems to be plenty for him,” he proclaims loudly, almost derisively.

“Nothing left?” Darcy asks, and Thor deflates a bit, dropping into his own chair.

“It is a long tale,” he states simply.

“The last thing I remember clearly is jumping onto a rainbow platform in Asgard, Thor. Hulk took over after that. What happened?” Bruce asks. Darcy glances at him, having almost forgotten he was in the room, the man being so quiet. 

“Death,” Thor simply states, pausing a moment, “I thought our troubles were over after Hela was defeated, but Loki had the Tesseract which brought Thanos to the ship with all our refugees.” After a pause, Thor mutters under his breath, “Ah, yes, I had tasked Loki with destroying Asgard, so he would have walked right past the cube with Surtur’s crown...”

“Destroying Asgard?” Darcy whispers, horrified. Steve moves to stand behind her, a hand gripping her shoulder. She feels herself focus a bit easier with his strength quietly behind her.

“Do not fear, shield sister. Asgard is a people, not a place. I brought my people away beforehand. Hela, the eldest daughter of Odin, had escaped her imprisonment with the death of my father. She was thinning the disloyal and the only way to stop her was to destroy the source of her powers, the planet,” Thor states this all very matter of fact.

Despite Steve’s comforting presence, Darcy’s head is spinning and Thor seems to have barely begun. She bites her lip, brow furrowing while she listens. Bruce is back to looking at the table, obviously familiar with the story. Steve’s mouth is set in a grim line, the face of a commander receiving a dire report, and Thor continues.

“Loki bargained for my life with the Tesseract, as Thanos already had the Power stone to my head. Loki used it as a distraction to give Hulk an opportunity to surprise Thanos, but even Hulk was overpowered. Heimdall used the last of his power to send Hulk apparently here to warn you. Thanos murdered Loki and left me with his body, exploding the ship.”

“Yeah, then me and my crew found him floating in between all the wreckage. Thought it was just going to be a simple rescue mission, but no, this lout here takes me and Groot on a quest for a magic weapon against Thanos and the rest of my team is who knows where,” Rocket adds in.

“Magic weapon? What happened to Mew-mew?” Darcy asks, eyeing the axe next to Thor.

“Hela destroyed Mjolnir,” he says. “This is Stormbreaker, uru metal forged with the fire of Nidavellir by Eitri, the last of the master blacksmiths.”

A beat of silence passes before Darcy shakes her head to brush aside the strangely sorrowful thoughts of Mjolnir being gone. It’s just another thing to add that she can’t really register.

“So Thanos killed everyone? You’re the last of the Asgardians?” she asks quietly, thinking of Lady Sif and the jolly warriors.

“Oh, no. Valkyrie was very clever and escaped with about half of my people before Thanos managed to overtake our ship. We were a diversion to afford her time and she will lead my people honorably and protected as only a Valkyrie could. I can only hope they were not culled further with Thanos’ power as Hela’s massacre was... acute,” Thor responds, looking despondent. “I am sorry to say Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were some of the first Hela took. I know you were fond of them.”

Darcy bites her lips together, nodding solemnly. She feels a bit numb, the sheer amount of loss incomprehensible to her. A strangled sort of laugh escapes her suddenly, her mind imagining herself in Amsterdam if she hadn’t been pulled back into this world. She would have been working on her master's degree, taking shifts at the bakery, completely unprepared as half the world would have disappeared in front of her eyes. No contact with Jane, disconnected from anyone who would even begin to be able to explain to her what had occurred.

 _Not that I was prepared for this to actually happen_.

Steve’s hand squeezes on her shoulder and she reaches up to grip it, a sharp relief calming her nerves as his hand is solid and there and real.

“Sorry. I just... I was in Amsterdam six months ago, and this is all-” Darcy breaks off, uncertain of how to explain what she’s trying to say. The thought is lost as Rhodey walks in, looking harried.

“Hey, Steve, I got in touch with someone on the council, court martial be damned, and they’re scrambling for anyone at this point. There’s panic in the streets, and all the different countries militaries can’t handle the demands for protection since every city is in the middle of some catastrophe,” Rhodey says. “They’re asking to know what happened. People are calling it the rapture.”

“Well, it might help if they turned off the endless horror show on television,” Darcy remarks, eyeing the TV in disgust. “They need to stop fear mongering the people and give them rational instruction. What the fuck do TV ratings even matter right now?”

Rhodey glances at her, surprised by her interjection, and nods.

“They’re working on it, but the networks are surprisingly resistant to switching up their usual rhetoric after a disaster, and since half of their bosses have disappeared...”

Darcy sighs in understanding. Looking at Rhodey, she frowns.

“Have we heard from Tony?”

“Hadn’t had a chance to call Pepper yet,” Rhodey replies, but pulls a phone out of his pocket and slides it on the table to her. “Here.”

Darcy eyes the phone, quickly swiping it awake as she jumps up to exit the room for a moment of privacy. She’s surprised to find Natasha is in the hallway, furiously typing on a mobile phone. Darcy pauses.

“Something up, Natasha?” Darcy asks the blond woman.

Natasha jumps to which Darcy responds with a frown, unaware she was capable of surprising her.

“No.”

“Well, I know you guys heal fast and all that, but you should get your hand checked out,” Darcy notes, motioning to the blood dripping off of Natasha’s hand. “It’s still bleeding.”

Natasha tenses, and Darcy can see the blonde woman’s struggle to compact her emotions into herself. Darcy’s eyebrows furrow in concern, but Natasha gives a short nod and walks down the hall, presumably towards the medical area. Darcy sighs before turning to the phone, finding Pepper’s number and hitting send. It only rings twice before being picked up by a quiet voice.

“Hello? Rhodey?”

“Er, no. It's Darcy.”

“Darcy,” Pepper whispers out, “what the hell is going on? I can't get half of my contacts to answer me and Happy...”

Pepper cuts off to take another breath before continuing.

“Happy disappeared in front of me and my assistant in the garage. Tony is gone and the Tower is just so empty and I had FRIDAY immediately dispatch some of the suits to try and redirect some of the planes to safer ground, the ones which looked like they were going to crash... crash into us...”

“Pepper,” Darcy says. There's a moment where she's not sure what to say next.

“Where’s Rhodey? Where's Jane? What does she think this is?” Pepper cuts to the question.

“Rhodey is here, a little banged up, but fine. Jane... Jane disappeared. She's gone.”

Pepper whispers, “how many people are lost?”

“As far as I know, half. Half of everyone. Here, in space, on other planets. Everywhere is half.”

“Oh my god.”

Darcy isn't sure what to say to that, her mind still reeling from the last few hours. There's a long moment of complete silence.

“Tony?” Darcy asks, unable to attach more to the question.

“I haven't heard from him since he climbed on that ship that had taken Strange and disappeared. He deployed an extra suit for someone else who hasn't been recovered either, though, so he has some sort of backup,” Pepper sounds frustrated. “And I had just met Dr. Strange, but he had just taken Tony into a meeting with Bruce. With that fancy portal he stepped through, I’d guess he’d be helpful, too.”

Darcy feels a new bud of fear in her chest, but tamps it down.

“That's... That's good to know. Bruce is here, too. Little banged up, but here.”

“So you have people with you? You’re not alone?” Pepper’s voice is strained.

“Yeah. Steve and Natasha are here as well, they were protecting Vision, who was mostly right. They were after his stone,” Darcy mutters. “Can I ask something, though?”

“What is it?”

“Your mark. Is it different at all?” Darcy asks quietly, a sudden fear gripping her. There’s a sound of shuffling as Pepper checks.

“Not at all, why?” she responds and Darcy heaves out a sigh of relief.

“Thor’s mark is bleeding. Jane is gone. My mark is normal and Steve is here. So if your mark the same, there’s a good chance Tony is relatively okay,” Darcy says. “And we could use a little good news like that right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm stalling up in the chapter 13/14 area and it's driving me batty. I know where it's supposed to go, just not sure how to _get_ there. Boo.
> 
> <3


	4. Chapter 4

The sun is just beginning to make its way over the forested hills in the distance, hinting at a clear sunny day. Clint is in a steady rhythm of thwacking with a small hatchet against a section of wood, trying to expel an energy that has been building in him for the past few days. The energy frustrates him because he can’t explain it. Just an instinct that something is coming, biting at his heels that have been tied down. His sleepless nights have been increasing and usually end with him completing chores in the early morning around the farm. 

After Steve had liberated him from the Raft, Clint knew the only way he’d ever see his family again was either by playing by Ross’ rules or subjecting his family to a life on the run. Natasha had explained an offer of asylum in Wakanda, but uprooting his family to another country felt wrong somehow. Another price they’d have to pay for his involvement, whether it had been foolish or not. So he’d shaken Steve’s hand, thanked him for the help, and left for New York. When he had arrived to the confused staff in the atrium of the Avengers Tower with his hands held up, he’d asked for Pepper. She’d been beyond accommodating, setting him up in a room while she stepped out to call a lawyer, not wanting to simply throw him to the wolves. 

“You’re one of us, and this will set a precedent,” she had stated at the time. “Tony might not foresee how this could bite him in the ass, but I do.”

Clint couldn’t fault in her, since the cut throat lawyer had ripped through the purposefully over-written Accords, pointing out the contradictions of clauses and managed to dissuade them from incarcerating him again. It took almost a year of court hearings, stress, and avoiding Tony, but ended with him agreeing to parole as long as he stayed on the farm. It was an easy concession since Clint would still be with his family.

Laura had been very angry those first few months once he finally returned. Despite understanding the situation, as Clint had been completely honest about the mission prior to leaving, Laura struggled with understandable resentment. The farm was built to be self sufficient, but was still a lot of work for a mother of three to handle alone while he traipsed back into an old life. So when he returned, fully shed of anything Avengers related, he threw himself into whatever she needed. After about a year of quiet living, they’d become closer than ever, working towards common goals which strengthened their relationship and appeased the guilt plaguing Clint over leaving his kids so often. Clint hadn’t even realized what he’d been missing by chasing missions for so long.

Even with the comfort of family, the stability he’d only heard about in stories with such a turbulent life, there were still moments where he missed the adrenaline rush of missions. Which is why he is currently directing his energy into building a tree house for Cooper and Lila, any sort of distraction welcome from the burning desire to do. Nathaniel is a smidge too young at three to climb into a tree house, but he was planning a smaller section closer to the ground for him. With enough time it could become an entire obstacle course for all of them.

“ _Clint!_ ”

Clint’s head whips up from his project, turning towards the house at Laura’s panicked call through the screened door. A stab of pain jabs into his thigh, his Mark _burning_ , and he can hear Nathaniel crying in fear. Concern for his son and Laura’s call, he jogs up a path to the house. It is just early enough for the house to begin stirring, Laura usually getting Cooper and Lila up for school around this time. Mild upsets happen almost every morning, the struggles of coaxing children into their morning chores and preparing for the day, so Clint isn’t expecting too much of an ordeal.

Then Lila screams.

The mixture of terror in that scream will haunt Clint for the rest of his days, the blend of his two youngest children’s voices crying out. The confusion that hits him when Nathaniel’s sobs simply cease.

Only Lila’s crying remains.

He bursts through the screen door, finding Lila with her knees pulled to her chest in her seat at the kitchen table. A quick glance confirms that she isn’t injured, but there is no sign of Laura or Nathaniel.

“Laura?” Clint asks in confusion, looking around for hints of his wife. “Laura, what happened?”

He begins to circuit the floor of the house, checking the mud room, a panic overtaking him to _find Laura, find Nathaniel, where did they go?_ until he finally stops to kneel next to Lila.

“Lila, where did mommy go?”

Lila shakes her head, eyes and cheeks shiny with her tears, and points at the sink.

“She was there, daddy. M-Mommy was there getting Nate some water,” she whispers with little hiccups. “She turned into dirt.”

Only then does Clint realize that there is a strange dust on the usually immaculate floors and all over Nathaniel’s regular seat at the table. Water is spilled all over the floor in front of the sink, a discarded sippy cup rolled under a chair.

“Cooper!?” Clint yells as he grabs Lila up into his arms, her slight figure instantly clinging to him as she sobs. He practically leaps up the stairs to Cooper’s room. Upon entering, Clint is stabbed with certainty that Cooper is gone as well, finding the room empty of his older son. The sheets are dusty between the empty covers.

Clint only pauses a moment before pulling back out of the room and taking Lila to the master bedroom. Plopping her down on the bed, he begins to dig through the back of a closet. A nondescript phone is found and he boots it up, finding multiple messages begin to ping on the screen as they load. Collapsing to the floor, he sits in stunned silence as the information begins to unfurl in front of him.

“Daddy?”

Clint startles, the last few minutes playing over and over in his head, the screams of his wife and children still echoing. From his position on the ground, leaning against the foot of the bed, he can see Lila peering at him over the edge with wide tearful eyes. Her voice is muffled from curling her face into the duvet.

“Yeah?” Clint is struggling to keep his voice even as the pieces beginning to click together. _Tony Stark Missing after Alien Ship Attacks New York!_ and _Aliens in Scotland Thwarted!_ are some of the most consistent headlines, but checking social media is a completely different place. Gone are any hashtags related to the aliens or Stark, and instead are the cries of hundreds of terrified people, all saying the same thing.

_What happened? Where did my loved ones go? Am I alone? Is this the Rapture?_

Clint drops the phone, unable to read any more of the fear that is already pushing his own emotions. Gasping sobs escape him, and he shields his forehead with his hands, the innate feeling of shame washing over him.

_I could have helped. I would have helped. It could have ruined everything but it would have been worth it if they were still here._

If Lila has a question, she refrains from asking it. Her little arms reach to curl around his neck, which he welcomes and pulls her down off the bed into his lap. Clinging to her as he breaks down, Lila is the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. His mind is cycling between Laura, Nathaniel, Cooper, flickers of their faces as this situation makes no sense.

_Gone._

They sit like that for a long time until Clint’s phone pings with a louder, different chirp.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Lila grabs the phone off the floor and looks at it.

“Daddy,” Lila pats his cheek before placing it in front of his face. Text glares from the screen at him.

_Status?_

Only one person is ever so poignant.

“Natasha,” he breathes out. 

“Auntie Nat’s okay?” Lila asks, peering at the phone with a little hiccup.

“Don’t know, Bug,” he replies in a murmur. Looking back through the text history, there were encrypted requests of her attempting to contact him, just checking in during the last few weeks. Questions about how the family is, questions about old missions in New Mexico, questions, questions, questions. Natasha obviously had An Opinion of him cutting himself off from everyone.

Setting the thought of Natasha’s intensity aside, he takes a moment to look over the news again, which is finally populating with information on what is continuing to be called the Rapture. Thousands of people disappearing, accidents happening all over the world, not just a city or country. People vanishing during critical moments of operating heavy machinery. Hospitals being overrun with injured patients after losing half of their staff.

A new stab of shame hits Clint and he rubs his hand down his face.

“I don’t know what happened, Lila. Mom and Nate just... disappeared?” he asks, hating himself for having to ask her.

Lila gives a little nod.

“They looked like ashes,” she whispers. “Mommy yelled for you when she saw Nate start to disappear, she didn’t notice she dropped his cup because her hands were gone.”

Clint grimaces at the thought, a sense of failure hitting him once again.

“Mommy’s not really gone, is she?” Lila’s question finally surfaces, voice wobbling.

“I don’t know what happened,” Clint repeats, shaking his head.

“You’re going to fix it, right, Daddy?”

“I don’t know, Bug.”

“But you can fix anything,” Lila insists, silent tears coursing down her cheeks.

Clint feels his heart twist in a new way, but finds it helps shove his emotions to the side. Lila’s faith in him is just the thing that prompts him to get up off of the floor and send a text back to Natasha. 

_New York._

“Pack a bag, Lila, we have to go see some old friends,” Clint pats her head and she scurries out of the room.

_It’s time you got off your ass, old man._

* * *

“Darcy has a gift. She will be a great help in adjusting my kinsmen to Earth’s customs.”

Steve frowns at Thor, struggling with his instinct to straight up reject the idea.

“I don’t like it. She’s a civilian,” Steve refutes, “and she has been attacked before. Besides, her doctor is here, I don’t even know if she can or should be moved during her recovery.”

“I could go with her,” Bruce offers from his seat. “Honestly, I probably should be there anyways. Valkyrie is bound to be uncertain of everyone, since Thor simply said ‘get to Earth’ with no other information. I could monitor Miss Lewis and report to her doctor here... what happened to her?”

“Miss Lewis was torn through non-space or some shit, and is mildly peeved people are making decisions for her without her,” Darcy’s voice cuts in from the doorway, eyebrows raised. Steve feels his face pull into a frown in thought, Thor immediately turning a fond smile towards her.

“Darcy, I was telling Steve here how you would be very helpful to welcome the rest of my kinsmen when they arrive. I have no doubt of Valkyrie arriving forthwith, at a place you call Norway. They left after Thanos overtook our ship and may already be here.”

Darcy turns a quizzical glance at Steve, who shrugs with his response. “I’m just laying out information. We still don’t know the extent of your injury, or if anyone still...”

“Yeah, sure,” Darcy cuts Steve off, before turning to Thor, “why Norway?”

Steve lets out a small breath in relief that he doesn’t have to justify his concern. The assurance over knowing she was still here, not gone like others, and cocooned in the relative safety of Wakanda is suddenly threatened by the unfortunately reasonable request of Thor’s.

“Father rests there,” Thor responds quietly. “As do the remnants of Mjolnir.”

Darcy eyes Thor critically. Steve is tempted to shuffle his feet, instant refusal clawing at his throat, _keep her here, I know they will keep her safe here when I’m gone._

“And you will be...” she leaves the statement hanging in question.

“Rocket and Steve will accompany me to scout for Thanos’ location, with Stormbreaker as transportation. It will be swift traveling,” Thor says. Darcy snorts.

“Please tell me what ‘scouting’ means, since I’m fairly certain we have wildly different definitions on this.”

Thor raises his hands, placating. “Simply finding where Thanos resides now that his mission is accomplished.”

“Oh, it’s not going half-cocked straight at him?” Darcy lets out a bitter laugh, which causes Steve to grimace. “Color me surprised.”

Thor frowns.

“Darcy, we woul-” Steve begins but she cuts him off.

“Look, I know you want retribution or justice or-or-or... but you can’t just go throwing your lives away like that,” her hands flail up in frustration. “We need to figure out how to _fix_ this, not revenge.”

“Hey, who said anything throwing away our lives? I’m not dying,” Rocket interjects, jumping up from his seat. Darcy eyes him.

“This one-” Darcy motions towards Steve, who winces knowing exactly what she’ll bring up, “-brought a plane down at what he thought was the cost of his own life to save a couple million people. And literally days within meeting Thor, I watched him throw himself in front of a blast that should have killed him, but Mew-mew saved his ass. So please, convince me of how exactly you will go right up to Thanos’ door and then _walk away_.”

Rocket looks up at Darcy, a sheepish expression on his face.

“You know, the Terran has a point. You don’t have the best survival instincts, Thor. I don’t know what was crazier, jump starting the star or actually taking the full brunt of its blast so we could smelt Stormbreaker,” he casually mentions, causing Thor to rub his forehead in frustration. Darcy looks scandalized.

“You did _what_ with a fucking _star_?!”

“We still had a chance to defeat Thanos then!” Thor grumbles loudly.

“And you have such a higher chance _now_? With half our forces gone, the team scattered-” Darcy argues before being cut off.

“Hey, hey guys!” Bruce yells, startling everyone to look at him. “Let’s bring it down a notch, okay? Rhodey had you call Pepper, Darcy, before he had to go. Is she alright?”

Darcy takes a deep breath and nods, eyeing Thor with distrust before turning to Bruce with a fierce expression. “The Tower seems to be alright. Pepper and her assistant saw Happy disappear, so while she’s shaken, she does have FRIDAY and most of her regular resources.”

“Any word from Tony?”

“No,” Darcy shakes her head. “But Pepper’s mark is unaffected, so I like to think that means he’s alive wherever he is. Hopefully able to come back since the worst has happened. Between the abducted guy and the additional suit Tony had deployed, that’s potentially two more people coming. So maybe instead of this suicide mission, you could go looking for Tony instead.”

“For all we know, he’s already in Thanos’ backyard,” Steve says, which causes Darcy to wrinkle her nose. “Could be fighting him right now.”

“No, he’d come back first.”

 _How do you know that?_ Steve thinks, frowning in response. Darcy rolls her eyes as if she hears his thought.

“Look, Earth just took a hell of a beating, and we know from Rocket that other planets were hit similarly. So who knows what horrible things Tony’s seen off world if Thanos’ quest has been so successful. Tony might not have anyone with him, he could have both those buddies. But he won’t know what happened _here_. And Tony won’t be able to function until he _knows_. He will need the confirmation, the knowledge, and _whoever is left_ before going forward,” she continues in a soft voice, sending him a worried glance.

Steve aims his frown at her, wanting to disagree but unable to find a way. Bruce looks up from where he was staring at the table in contemplation.

“You’re saying he’ll call to assemble..?” Bruce asks, expression alarmed.

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“I do not understand,” Thor states with a frown. “What is so wrong with that? Our friend Stark has called to assemble many times.”

“Sounds juicy, whatever it is,” Rocket comments with an interested look.

Darcy lets out a sigh as she drops back into the chair she had previously occupied.

“Thor, you haven’t been on Earth in quite some time, and Bruce disappeared around the same time you left. Sokovia was three years ago, and left the groundwork for questions that led a lot of Earth’s leaders to believe that, well, a leash on our ‘super people’ is, or was, necessary,” she says. “We could argue the legality of it all day long, especially in regards to you, Thor, but it doesn’t matter. Tony brought the document, named the Sokovia Accords, to the Avengers’ table. He assumed everyone would be hunky dory with it.”

“Why would you leash your greatest warriors like pets?” Thor asks, genuinely confused.

“I didn’t like it,” Steve replies. “Although there was a lot of debate between us at the time. I only got away with not signing it immediately due to travel. The whole presentation Ross gave was so overly dramatized, it focused mostly on all of the suffering and not on any of the good we’d done, or even the relief efforts after a botched mission. Just the destruction, straight fear mongering, which felt a little too similar to some of the propaganda I saw in the ‘40s.”

Bruce starts to shake his head the moment Ross’ name is mentioned, muttering under his breath, “no, no, a-a-and nope.” Darcy gives him a sympathetic look before turning to Thor.

“Thor, Earth is not like Asgard. We don’t have gods roaming the world, and all the pros and cons that go with that. The people were scared, a freaking city was pulled off the planet and dropped to the ground. If a piece of legislation can make the majority feel better, it makes politicians look like they’re doing their due diligence,” Darcy says, shrugging. “They just fail to mention that the people who hold the leash are just as potentially damaging at the evils they fear. That potential is too high in my opinion, especially with Ross at the helm. Hell, we have proof of it after the SHIELDRA dump in ‘14, with that Pierce guy.”

“So what happened when you refused?” Bruce asks.

“Well, it was spearheaded by the King of Wakanda, T’Chaka, because of an incident that involved relief efforts by his own people who were killed in an accident involving some ‘enhanced individuals’. So they held a conference in Vienna for countries to come together and ratify the Accords, which he opened with a speech and... was promptly killed in a bombing of the building,” Darcy states. “He died with 16 others and many injured. It was speculated that it was retaliation for the Accords by Bucky Barnes, which promptly shoved public opinion into ‘make enhanced people sign’.”

“Whoa, that war dude? Quill talks about him and Captain America waaay too much, read like all the comics as a kid before leaving this rock,” Rocket states, looking mildly impressed. “Wait, the guy is alive? Weren’t those stories based on a guy years ago in one of your world wars? Why would he use a bomb?”

There’s a confused moment where everyone but Rocket looks at Steve, who rubs his forehead.

“Sweet Rabbit, Steve Rogers here is Captain America. He has been asleep for many years before reawakening in this century. Perhaps Quill’s information was outdated,” Thor finally says, noting Steve’s reluctance.

“I’ll say, those comics are still printed today, and you cannot continue a series about a dead man. So while the public knew Steve went down in his ship, the comics restarted about ten years after his ‘death’,” Darcy offers. “Anything your Quill would know would be likely fabricated, anyways, as the Army isn’t particularly upfront with mission details.”

“But how did he or his friend survive? I thought the friend died in the war.”

“It doesn’t matter. We survived, and they were wrong about Bucky. He didn’t do it, and promptly had to go on the run due to the international manhunt. He’s been here in Wakanda since, hiding,” Steve states, not wanting to divulge any details. Darcy sends him a sympathetic look.

“He was the man who spun you around, Rocket,” Steve adds, as if remembering Rocket’s proximity to his friend.

“What? The guy with the wicked arm? And he’s...” Rocket stops, realizing Bucky’s fate.

There is a quiet moment as the group is reminded of the dire loss of all of their friends.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t we in Wakanda?” Bruce asks suddenly.

“We found that Bucky had been framed by a Sokovian Special Ops man named Zemo. His family had been a casualty of Ultron’s incident, and he had been plotting since then to dismantle our team. T’Challa heard Zemo’s confession firsthand, and absolved Bucky of any involvement. T’Challa... has been beyond generous with resources to help us,” Steve says, sadness lining his features. Darcy nods.

“T’Challa became King and had Wakanda pull out of the Accords, which makes sense considering his own role as an ‘enhanced person’. His father’s involvement was unusual for Wakanda, anyways. An overwhelming isolationist country, calling for more worldwide governmental scrutiny? Utterly flabbergasting. Regardless, they pulled out of the Accords,” Darcy sighs, rubbing her temple. “People chose sides and even Jane and I were dragged into it. They put her research on lock down, despite not being enhanced by any means, as a fail safe to keep us on ‘their side’ until you came back, Thor.”

“That seems a rather unworthy occupation for your leaders, Lady Darcy,” Thor grumbles, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Oh, I know, Thor. I knew that when you returned, things would get... difficult. But then I was sent here by Tony to warn ‘Team Fugitive’ Steve about Thanos’ coming, before we even got Bruce’s call. Vision has been getting dreams for _months_ , and they spelled out utter annihilation. Not half like we feared, literally everything. We didn’t know Thanos’ name, of course, but we knew the Infinity Stones were involved, and that was enough for us to be put on guard. Granted, I don’t think any of us expected Wanda to want to traipse off on holiday with Vision, or the abduction of that Doctor that Pepper told me about... I wonder how he ties into this,” Darcy ponders aloud. “But he must have been important for Tony to get on that ship.”

“Dr. Strange was in possession of the Time Stone,” Bruce states, “I fell into his building, and he showed it to Tony and I before the attack. They knew Strange had it, and Tony was all for destroying it, but Strange declined profusely. I mentioned getting the team together, but Tony seemed so hesitant to call you, Steve, and it seemed rather personal...”

“How did Thanos know it was there?” Darcy interrupts Bruce with a shake of her head. “Sorry, but we had _two_ Infinity Stones, and we didn’t even realize it?”

“It was the building Bruce was thrown into, Darcy, in the vision you brought to us. Building with a giant swooping symbol on the window, right?” Steve murmurs, latching onto the subject change before any other details make their way to light. “By the time we got the call about Dr. Strange’s situation from Bruce here, it was too late. We knew of it, we just didn’t understand.”

Darcy frowns in thought, and Steve can see when the connected ideas land. She lets out an annoyed hiss.

“No one thought to say ‘hey, maybe we should split these up’? Isn’t that why the Tesseract and Aether went with you, Thor?” she asks.

“Aye, and we were very careful to do so. The Tesseract lived in the Vault and the Aether had been taken off world to someone known for a very secure collection of antiques,” Thor replies.

Natasha re-enters the room, hand bandaged tightly and wearing a hollow demeanor.

“I have to go to New York,” Natasha states as she walks over to Steve, “what are your plans?”

Steve blinks up at her.

“It’s what we were discussing, before we were distracted by filling in Thor and Bruce over what they missed when they were off world. What’s in New York?”

“Barton is on the way there,” Natasha’s expression is brittle, and Steve feels a clash of hope and fear jar inside him simultaneously.

“Clint?” he asks, “oh god, who...?”

“I don’t know,” her voice wobbles a bit as she looks away, blinking furiously with pursed lips. “He’s not in the best frame of mind right now. But it’s bad.”

“Right. Well, Thor would like Darcy to be the liaison for the Asgardians as soon as they arrive, which would put her somewhere in Norway. We are building a mission on acquiring information to Thanos’ whereabouts so maybe we can...” Steve breaks off.

“Repair the universe from the destruction the six stones have wrought,” Thor helpfully supplies, “preferably after we pull that gauntlet off of Thanos’ dead body.” 

Darcy clears her throat.

“Simply find Thanos’ location and return,” Thor stresses the words, glancing at Darcy. “The hardest part will be finding him, the trip should be swift on our return as soon as we gain the information.”

Natasha shakes her head.

“How would we keep in contact with you after you left? While there’s nothing of note here anymore, you could leave and never return.”

“Eh, you don’t have communications on this rock?” Rocket asks, looking smug. “I know I had to confirm that the purging happened to the rest of the galaxy with my equipment, but you really don’t have anything?”

“Over the planet, sure. Interstellar level? No. We potentially have the capacity, but there’s never really been anyone to touch tone call, dude. Jane had a theory on how to contact Asgard, but after the, uh, breakup, she dropped it for other projects,” Darcy says. “I probably have that research, but there’s no receiver that we could contact.”

“Pfft, I could build one in a hot minute,” Rocket shrugs, looking around. “There’s ample technology here to slap something together. Might have a bit of delay, but at least we could check in.”

“What about Tony?” Darcy asks again, pinning Thor with a look.

“If he was with Dr. Strange and the Time Stone, he probably remains wherever Thanos’ left him after recovering the stone. We can search for him at the same time,” Thor assures Darcy, who emits a small hissing sigh.

“Fine. For the record, I think you should just look for Tony. I bet he knows more than we do at this point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realized i needed to patch a sliiiight plothole from the previous chapter, but it was fortunately very simple and easily explained here, so huzzah.
> 
> with this, this is the last person of my four POVs are the ones i mostly stick with. i'm still toying with an addition one or two, but they haven't come up yet so far.
> 
> <3


	5. Chapter 5

Steve steps out of the building and is confronted by the mountains of Norway, displaying a majestic mixture of greenery and rock. There’s a hint of the unending blue of the sea at a beach to the north and a bit of a woods to the south, but Steve notices little of it. His sight is arrested by Darcy, leaning against a wooden rail as she overlooks the myriad of people maneuvering boxes and other equipment.

She hears his approach, turning to glance at him and he’s struck by just how fragile she looks. Strands of her hair blow into her red-rimmed eyes, tangles getting caught in the frame of her glasses, contrasting starkly against her pale skin. He’s not sure what he wants to say since the events in the past few days have drained even him of most of his reserves. The fact that she’s still standing with him is a marvel in of itself.

“Hey,” she says, expression brightening at seeing him.

“I wish you would have gone with Natasha,” Steve replies, dropping the pair of Wakanda shields by his feet. He steps forward to pull her into his arms, resting his chin on her head as she leans into him.

“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “But I will be a lot more useful here. This is what I’m good at, Steve. Working with what’s left of the world's governments, building a place for the refugees, familiarizing them with our technology. Thor was a handful when we first met him. Upside, this area is rife with Nordic mythology, so people here are likely to be more accepting of them. Besides, it’ll keep me distracted from... everything.”

Steve sighs, nodding.

“What about your seizures?” he asks.

Darcy shrugs a single shoulder.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking Dr. Banner will have some ideas, perhaps. His type always does. Hell, even Jane had ideas she was bothering Shuri with. Now Jane’s ideas were more theorizing about what the portal I passed through was and less about the medicine,” she pauses, before making her next statement firm. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, Bruce seems like the type to not let something go when it strikes him. And he seems to like you. Does the other guy make you nervous?” Steve mumbles down into her hair.

“Hulk? Naw. I doubt he’ll make an appearance anyways, Dr. Banner seemed... disappointed in Hulk’s lack of involvement.”

Steve nods in response. Darcy shifts to wrap her arms around his waist, sighing.

“I know you have to go,” she mumbles into his chest. “I’m not about to argue about it, I know a lost cause.”

Darcy lifts her face to give him a pleading look. “But I am going to ask you to please _be selfish_. Not be careful, because I know you are. I also know you would deliberately sacrifice yourself if it’s important enough. You have to come back, okay? I don’t know what you could run into on the way to him, and I-I-I don’t want to hear about you coming back in a...”

“Hey,” Steve cuts off her rambling concerns and pulls away to cradle her face with his hands. “There’s not going to be any sacrifice, I promise you. We know what is a stake. We’ll come back with the information and make a plan then. I don’t think we’ll get another chance if we mess this up.”

Darcy nods solemnly. Despite his assurances, her eyebrows are furrowed up in concern, so Steve leans down to press his lips against hers briefly, thumbs brushing her cheeks. 

“You’ll be careful, too, right?” Steve asks as he breaks away, touching his forehead to hers as he pulls his arms down to wrap around her waist once again.

“Of course. It seems pretty quiet here, even for Norway, and I have a bit of experience with their culture since we were in Tromsø during the Chitauri attack. We’re hardly a blip on anyone’s radars with the world on fire, so I’ll be fine,” she replies softly. “Will _you_ be okay? I mean, you’re going to be exploring more than just the Nine Realms, from the way Rocket talks about the galaxy.”

“It’s like any other mission, Darcy, even if it is in space.”

“Right. But nothing comes for free,” she mumbles under her breath. “And I’m scared what this mission will cost us.”

Steve’s eyebrow quirks before deciding to let the statement go.

“I’d still feel better if Nat was with you,” Steve decides to continue with, sighing. “But I’m pretty sure she’s not going to be much help for anyone until she checks on Barton.”

“Hawkeye?”

“Yeah. He kept off the radar, took a ‘for real this time’ retirement deal after the Raft so he could be with his family, so we didn’t even contact him to join up,” Steve explains. “I can only imagine how he feels now.”

“I didn’t know he had a family,” Darcy says, looking surprised. Steve finds a quiet chuckle escape under his breath.

“Neither did we, until we needed a place to lie low. Clint has had a lot of experience with SHIELD and built his farm off-grid to avoid attention. He has a wife and three kids, but if he’s leaving his home, it’s bound to be bad.”

“What if he’s the only one left? What if all of his family is gone?” Darcy whispers in that breathless way prompted by horror. Steve squeezes at her sides, pulling her closer for reassurance, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.”

“Will Natasha be able to help him?” she asks after another quiet moment.

“She’s the only one that I know of who can.”

“Steve!”

Thor yells at them from the distance, in the long grass by the beach, waving. Others are standing near him, apparently waiting on Steve.

Steve sighs.

“I suppose I’ve delayed long enough.”

“It’s time, already?” Darcy asks, biting her lip. Steve nods in response, which prompts Darcy to sigh.

“Remember, be selfish, Steve. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Steve brushes her hair out of her face as he speaks. She shoots up to kiss him again, fingers gripping into his tactical suit and keeping him in place. He feels a tugging of his mark, a sense of soothing connection, and tangles his fingers into her hair. The moment is bittersweet, tears waterlogged in her eyes, but she abruptly pushes away from him.

“You have to go.”

He stumbles a bit, letting her push at his body, looking regretful.

“Yeah.”

“Go,” she says, biting her lip again.

Steve reaches down to grab his shields, a frown fixed on his face. He forces himself to turn away from her and jog down the steps towards the clearing where the group is. In every step forward, he feels an internal crush of compacting his fears and concerns, turning his mind to the upcoming mission. As he approaches the group, he notices Bruce eyeing Darcy behind him with concern. Thor is wearing a subdued expression, with Rocket on his shoulder. The raccoon is leaning an assault rifle on his knee that Steve places as Bucky’s old one, the weapon looking ridiculously oversized on the creature.

“She okay?” Bruce asks.

“I don’t think any of us are,” Steve says tightly, adjusting the shields on his forearms.

“Do not worry, my shield sister is very resilient,” Thor states. “There is no other I would entrust with my people than Lady Darcy. She will be safe here with Banner, and we will return swiftly.”

Steve nods, reaching out to shake Bruce’s hand.

“Be careful. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Bruce nods and claps Thor’s back slightly before stepping back. Steve grabs Thor’s shoulder that isn’t occupied by Rocket. Thor swings Stormbreaker in a flurry of movement, reaching to the sky.

Steve sees Darcy in the distance, wind blowing her hair around as she stares at him, and then the world explodes into a kaleidoscope of color.

* * *

“Daddy?”

Clint adjusts Lila on his back, hefting her through the quiet streets of New York City. It isn’t the lack of people that makes the city seem eerie, since there are plenty milling about, but the sorrow everywhere you look. Most of the buildings look half deserted, as if everyone left their homes at once to find someone, and never returned. 

_Which I suppose is true_ , Clint thinks.

“Yeah, Bug?” he responds after steering clear of a group of people arguing in front of a broken storefront.

“How many people do you think disappeared?” Lila asks quietly into his neck.

“I don’t know. It seems like a lot, doesn’t it? But we’re almost there, and Auntie Nat will be by soon,” he adjusts the cap on his head, the garment almost unnecessary as Clint’s not expecting to be recognized with his daughter.

The path to the safe house he’d clued Natasha to previously is still a couple blocks away, and there’s still remnants of carnage everywhere. There’s crashed vehicles shoved out of the main thoroughfare, the light traffic reasonably slow to avoid any specific damage to the streets. One road is completely closed off due to the husk of a burned-out helicopter crashed in the middle of it. Clint is confused as to why nothing has been cleared away, but as his destination nears, he realizes there’s merely a lack of manpower and time.

Ducking down an alleyway, he stops about halfway down it to set Lila down.

“Wait right here,” Clint says, pushing her into a corner next to a dumpster and handing her his bag. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Lila looks around the daytime alleyway that’s empty, looking safe enough, nodding as she makes herself look as small as possible. Clint’s brow furrows up, concern biting him that she so easily understood to hide even if there’s no immediate threat of danger, but shakes it off.

Taking a few steps back, he gets a running jump to kick off the wall and hop up the side of the building to grab at the fire escape. Climbing up, he reaches the fourth floor very quickly, pulling out a penknife to jab into a window and shove it open. Peeking his head in, he determines it’s safe enough and rolls the rest of the way in.

He finds himself in the living room, furniture musty and a distasteful smell throughout the place, but it seems quiet and unremarkable. He walks over to the hallway, checking both bedrooms and the single bathroom quickly, before returning through the living room to the kitchen where he finds Natasha sitting at the table, frown affixed her face.

“Jesus, Natasha!”

She looks up at him, looking more like the perturbed fourteen-year-old girl he was sent to kill years ago than the assassin he knows she’s capable of being.

“They’re all gone then?” she whispers.

“Lila’s downstairs,” he deflates, the weight of the situation breaking through his self-imposed mission to _get to New York, fix this mess_.

Natasha is up from her chair and hugging him before he can blink. He can’t remember the last time Natasha purposefully touched him that wasn’t for sparring or a mission. Clint grimaces, trying to hold his emotions together as he pats her shoulder, a reflex he barely registers.

“I’ll get her. You... sit,” Natasha says softly. He catches a glimpse of her bandaged hand as she pushes away, starting towards the door.

“Who’s left?” Clint asks before she can make it out.

She pauses, hand on the doorframe that squeezes the wood tightly.

“Steve. Thor. Bruce,” is the quiet reply, her face turned away. “We’re waiting to hear from Tony, but we’re convinced he’s alive wherever he is. Pepper and Rhodey. Some of our Wakandan friends.”

Natasha continues her steps, the front door quietly snapping shut as she leaves.

While Clint is glad to see a friendly face after hours of strangers, the stretch of silence sitting in the deserted safe house is unnerving. Especially with the information Natasha just handed him. Clint feels a sadness crush down on him as he realizes the names Natasha omitted. The most prominent one is Wanda. The girl had taken his challenge to get up and fight seriously, but it is for nothing if she is now gone. He feels guilt prick his conscience as he realizes how many wayward children he’s found in his career and accepted into his realm of espionage and blood.

He pushes up to go into one of the bedrooms, adjusting things for Lila, opening a window to vent out the musty smell. Thinking of the first time he disobeyed orders to turn his target into a protege, he returns to the living room when he hears the door open and said protege appears. Watching Natasha carry Lila in on her back, Clint is struck with mild amusement for a split second, as he was also guilty of carrying the very capable eight-year-old.

_I’m not the only one scared that she’ll disappear too._

“Your room is through there, Lila, if you want to check it out,” Clint says, pointing to the room behind him. Natasha glances at him, frowning. “What?”

“You’re coming with me to the Tower. We need to get you up to date, and there’s a lot more for Lila to do there, with people we can trust. You weren’t planning on leaving her here alone, were you?” Natasha asks in that bald way of hers.

Clint sighs.

“No, but I wasn’t sure of my reception. I already owe too much to Pepper, and things with Tony were... strained.”

“Pepper will be glad for the company,” Natasha states, eyeing the girl. “And we can talk more when we get there. Feel like seeing the Tower, Lils?” 

Clint frowns, _Pepper is lonely_ skittering across his mind.

“Will anything scary be there?” Lila asks, uncertain. Clint looks confused, before realizing the last time she heard of anything of the Tower, Ultron was running amuck.

“No, but guess what?” Natasha leans closer to the girl, who has wide eyes. “Everyone is scared of your Auntie Nat the most.” 

Lila smiles and nods. Natasha grabs her hand and hooks the child’s backpack over her shoulder with the other hand that's bandaged.

“What’s wrong with your hand, Nat?” Clint asks softly. “I know how fast you heal, any wound shouldn’t be soaking through your bandage still.”

Natasha does not indicate that she’s heard him. She ushers Lila out of the apartment and into the elevator before Clint can stop her, and he snags his bag before jogging after them. The elevator door closes just as he hops in.

“It began to bleed after the purge,” she states suddenly as if the idea has just come to her.

“What is ‘it’?” Clint asks, genuinely confused.

“My mark,” Natasha whispers. “I... didn’t know. I thought something else. I... was wrong.”

Clint’s eyebrows shoot up, alarm racing through him at Natasha actually admitting a mistake. There’s a slight relief in knowing his mark bleeding isn’t an isolated incident, but her expression is disturbing.

“Wrong about what?”

Natasha shrugs and refuses to speak of marks the rest of the way to the Tower. Instead, she begins to regale Lila with stories of the Tower.

Clint knows redirection when he sees it and lets it go. He wants to ask about others from the team but is painfully aware of his daughter's presence. It won’t do to scare her if all of daddy’s old friends are gone. It won’t do at all.

* * *

Rippling water flutters against her ears, a weightless sensation of floating as she becomes aware. Darcy sits up suddenly in confusion, glancing around the dusky area that she finds herself in, a vast flat waterscape. She shoves herself up to her feet. A beat of confusion passes as she looks down at her hands that drip to instant dryness. Patting her hair, which should be soaked, she only finds it a tousle of dry strands.

“What the Frig-” Darcy hisses, remembering her internal promise to stop that particular habit since Thor is back, even if currently away, “-frickety fuck. The fuck. This. What?”

“Hello, again.”

Darcy shrieks, spinning around to look behind her.

The woman behind her isn’t notably taller than Darcy but stands with an assurance that makes her seem larger than life. Her light brown hair is cut into layers that frame her face, accentuating her jawline in a flattering way. She’s wearing a dark v-neck t-shirt that stretches over her ample bosom and a pair of denim jeans. The plaid long sleeve shirt knotted at her waist is familiar to Darcy, and the woman’s blue eyes squint in curiosity as she holds a bland expression on her face.

“Mom?” Darcy asks quietly.

The woman tilts her head.

“You’re very odd, you know,” the woman who bears an uncanny resemblance to Sandra Lewis states. “You always ask the same questions.”

“What?”

“‘What’ indeed?” the woman replies.

“Where am I?” Darcy decides to look around to distract herself from the woman’s eerie features.

“Where?” the woman gives a soft laugh and Darcy winces at the nostalgic pain that grips her chest. Darcy can’t remember the last time she heard her mother laughing in such a way, if ever. “You should know, you come here often enough. You’re fortunately entertaining.”

Darcy feels fear slice down her spine at the nonchalant threat.

“I come here myself?” she can’t help but ask, which the woman nods affirmatively.

Darcy looks around for any landmarks, finding none. Just her and this woman, who looks like a healthy and happier version of her mother that Darcy isn’t sure she ever had an opportunity to see.

The woman tilts her head as if hearing something.

“Oh! Well, goodbye,” she holds her hand up in farewell. “Until next time?”

Before Darcy can register the wave, there’s a sensation of twin stabbings to her chest and the world goes black.

* * *

“Darcy!”

Darcy opens her eyes, unable to discern anything particular except a dark background. She can feel more than she can see, calloused hands running over her wrist and adjusting a device attached to her forehead.

“‘M here,” she whispers.

“Thank god,” is muttered next to her. She is slowly aware of laying flat on the cold floor.

“Darcy, it’s Bruce. You remember me?” Bruce must be the one hovering around her pulse point and takes a moment to pull an eyelid open to flash a light in her eyes.

“Crazy Culver Chemist,” she mutters, entire body feeling sluggish. Bruce chuckles.

“I don’t think anyone actually called me that, but sure. We’re having a crazy sort of day, huh?” he seems to be satisfied with what he finds. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I spent all weekend on a bender. My head is pounding,” Darcy replies, bring her hand to her face, feeling the plastic monitors stuck to her temple. She opens her eyes in a squint, confirming she is on the floor and begins to press herself up.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Bruce says begrudgingly, helping her up to lean against the wall. She relaxes into it, a sigh escaping her.

“How often are these episodes coming, Darcy?” Bruce settles down next to her, looking between her and a tablet in his hand. Darcy shrugs.

“I don’t know. They’re kind of sporadic, couple times a week maybe,” Darcy replies. “This was different from the last one though.”

“Can you tell me what happened just now?” Bruce focuses entirely on her. Darcy sighs again.

“I said goodbye to Steve and came to my office since it’s the first time I’ve had to stop since...” she breaks off, shaking herself, “...I must have dozed off?”

She decides against mentioning the sinking feeling in her stomach that started the moment Steve left. It’s common knowledge of Matched pairs feeling a bit ‘stretched thin’ when their Match would board a plane and travel long distances. Usually, the feeling is so gradual most don’t notice it so she assumes Steve leaving in such a quick manner isn’t worth noting.

“And...” Bruce prompts.

Darcy’s eyes dart up as she struggles to grasp on the little bits she remembers.

“Usually my little fainting spells just knock me out for a couple minutes, but this time... I dreamed? No, it felt different from a dream. It was blue and wet but not wet,” she says. “Someone was there, someone who found me fascinating the same way a child finds a small bug interesting.”

“Who?” Bruce asks, head tilted. “Someone you know?”

Darcy frowns.

“Yes. But she wasn’t her. She was just wearing the skin of her, I guess,” is her quiet reply. “She acted differently than the person she looked like.”

“How so?”

“She seemed terrifying and... content?”

Bruce seems to mull this over for a moment.

“Do you remember anything else?” Bruce asks, begins to tap on his pad quickly.

“Other than waking up to the sensation of being stabbed in the chest?” Darcy snorts in retort.

“Darcy, you collapsed out of your seat. As far as I can tell, these readings are showing that your brain ceased to function for about thirty seconds while I had to shock your heart back into beating so you’d breathe again. The only reason I knew anything was wrong is the alarm on the monitor that Shuri put on you. How did you get discharged from medical if you need this much care?” Bruce sounds confused.

“It’s really not that bad. Not usually anyway,” Darcy mumbles down into her hands, an inexplicable sense of shame washing over her. “I get by just fine.”

She fiddles with the device at her wrist.

“Ah, okay,” Bruce is fiddling with his pad, which Darcy assumes he’s looking at past readings. “You’re right, nothing was quite this extreme... what on earth caused this? Your brain shouldn’t turn off from you falling asleep.”

Darcy lets out an exasperated sigh, not wanting to go over the incident that prompted her strange seizure-like symptoms again. Pushing herself from the wall, she brushes past the perplexed doctor and sits back at her desk. Avoiding his gaze, she shakes her head.

_So much has happened since then, it doesn’t really matter._

“I passed through a wormhole on Ross’ orders. Shuri and my Dr. weren’t - aren’t - very sure what kind of portal, even with all the readings they took. I was a test subject for the technology, which was incidentally based on Jane’s incomplete research, so it’s possible it was wrong in the first place,” Darcy grumbles, trying to downplay it. “But it pulled me from Wakanda to Pennsylvania, and then those assholes, uh, messed with my head for a bit while Steve scrambled to find me.”

“What’s the point in stealing you?” Bruce asks, looking baffled. “I thought you said you were relatively normal.”

Darcy refuses to meet Bruce’s eye, continuing to look down at her hands.

“Ross used me as bait for Steve. They somehow patched together our Match status, and since their pride and joy of the Army had gone AWOL, they decided to experiment with me on the off chance he’d notice. I figured that’s why Jane was kept with the Avengers, a hook on Thor, but didn’t realize it had extended to me as well.”

Bruce swears under his breath, shaking his head.

“There should be more information in that pad, including footage of the incident. They have been very busy during the years you were gone, Dr. Banner, so you could say I have a very sympathetic understanding of your dealings with Ross,” Darcy states firmly, not wanting to go into more personal detail. Like the anxiety riding her those few uncertain weeks, assuming her Match would reject her.

“But this doesn’t explain why your condition is suddenly worse,” Bruce replies. “You haven’t changed anything about your daily life as far as I can tell. I wish we could go to New York, my old lab used to have some specific equipment I’d made.”

Darcy cringes, shaking her head.

“I won’t set foot in the Tower,” she states. “Even if it’s untouched since you left it.”

“Oh?” Bruce has that curious expression on his face again. “How do you know?”

“Jane’s lab was on the same floor. Tony wouldn’t touch it.”

“I mean, I know I was gone a long time, but you seem to be very familiar with everyone,” Bruce states quizzically.

“Well, I’m no oldie like you, but I did meet Thor when he touched down for the first time, so if you had to have someone pop up out of nowhere, who better?” she asks. She desperately wants to avoid bringing up information that is likely completely irrelevant. 

_Like according to unverified tests, Tony’s my dad, so no wonder we got on like a house on fire._

“I suppose,” Bruce says, shrugging. “It has nothing to do with your current predicament though. I’d like you to sleep in the makeshift med-bay, though. I want you to be monitored to make sure you don’t fall into a coma.”

“Fine. I don’t like it, but it makes sense. I’m so tired,” she leans over her desk, closing her eyes with a whisper. “But I’m scared to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully my fuzzy medical stuff isn't too out of the scope of reason.
> 
> thank you for all your kind comments. <3


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky Barnes is bored.

He knows that it’s ridiculous, being in a bizarre place that begs disbelief with even odder companions. There is no scenery, although he _swears_ there is some sort of hill in the distance. Unfortunately, every time he squints closer at it, it seems to fade into nothing.

He should be making himself useful, but there’s no obvious way to _do_ that.

Quill is vacillating between denial and anger, which keeps the ‘Guardians’ congregated by themselves. There is an exception for Wanda, being added to their group as Mantis is still working on soothing her by holding the witch’s hand. Wanda has a calmness to her now, clear features reflecting such, her eyes solemn.

The other group has Jane explaining something obscure about her work to the kid Peter, who fires off a list of questions in succession, while T’Challa and Sam ponder aloud the possibilities of getting out of this bizarre place. Dr. Strange is away from both groups, always walking around and checking things around him as if there is something to find in his surroundings that none of them can see.

So Bucky decides to explore. He can feel the assessing glance of Dr. Strange as he walks off, but he’s going to figure out if there’s an actual mountain teasing him in that distance.

“Do you mind company?”

The tiny height of Dr. Jane Foster appears next to him and she bends down to adjust her shoe. It seems like a useless action, in this place where comfort seems irrelevant, but gives him a moment to consider.

“I’m not sure Strange wants us to split up too much,” Bucky responds, waiting regardless. Jane shrugs as she straightens.

“I need a break from Peter. I wouldn’t mind talking about my past research in usual circumstances, but this is the time when I would be _doing_ instead of _waiting_ , so...” Jane shrugs again, falling into the brisk pace that Bucky sets.

“Doing? How much action did your labs see?” Bucky asks, confusion lining his face.

Jane tilts her head, considering.

“The labs are usually safe. We usually abide by quite a few safety protocols and Darcy gets testy when people break them. It’s when we’re thrown out into the wilds that everything goes to shit,” she says seriously. “Usually. Still ended up here despite staying safe in my labs, taking readings, right?”

“How often did you find yourself ‘in the wilds’?”

“Oh, I used to do field research when Thor first came, and there was the whole Dark Elf thing... I was possessed by that Aether thing a while back,” Jane shrugs nonchalantly as if mentioning her Tuesday lunch.

“Aether?” Bucky isn’t sure if he has ever heard the word. Steve would know, since his friend had devoured all of the debriefing reports on Foster due to her close association with his Match, Lewis. Bucky avoided mission reports from the past very decidedly, terrified he’d find himself in them doing something he would have an unfortunate memory of. He kept himself useful for Steve, training and odd jobs, but mostly kept to therapies and adjusting to 21st-century living.

“Erm. It’s one of the Infinity Stones, although it seems odd to call it something as solid as a _stone_. But it’s the Reality Stone, able to bend the very laws of our existence. So if it wants to be a bizarre swirling mist that possesses my body, it’ll be that,” Jane states, starting to look strained.

Bucky frowns.

“So, just so I have this straight, Earth has come in contact with... what, four of the six? Steve and Red Skull with the Tesseract, you with the Aether, seems like the Mind Stone made a few rounds but ended up in Vision, and Strange mentioned wearing a Time Stone. What the hell did Earth do to win this shitty lottery?” he grumbles. They’ve been walking a few minutes, passing throngs of people but the terrain staying stubbornly flat.

“I don’t know if I can speculate. The Aether was very-” Jane pauses, taking a breath, “-very determined to get off-world. The place it had been resting was desolate, chained, and the convergence gave it an opportunity to throw doors out all over the universe. I’m just too curious for my own good.”

“Why did it want to get off-world? Why are we even talking like it’s sentient?”

“Because it was. It wanted. It _chose_ not to devour me,” Jane whispers, blinking in quick succession. “It said I was strong and would fulfill its purpose.”

Bucky tamps down on the anxiety raising from his stomach. He is very carefully ignoring his arm, hoping it’s still in flesh form as to not alarm Dr. Foster.

“It wanted to commune,” she continues after a moment.

“Commune?” 

“With its sisters, the other stones,” Jane explains. “I didn’t figure that out until after Thor left, though. I might have told him had I known then.”

Bucky regards this silently, not at all reassured as they continue. They pass more groups of people, the smattering of languages challenging to discern even though language seems to be no barrier here. People go silent as they pass, however, suspicions of unknown newcomers causing people to band into a smaller group.

“So it’s not a coincidence that so many ended up on Earth?” he decides to ask, uncertain he wants to know the answer.

Jane shrugs. “Not enough data.”

“Are you... okay? After the Aether?” is his next thought.

Jane lets out a burst of noise through her nose in a snort, the sound jarring and not what Bucky is expecting.

“It doesn’t matter, the universe keeps spinning,” Jane sidesteps the question. “At least, I assume it does. Not like I can hop out and check, right?”

At that moment, a figure bumps into Bucky from behind, knocking him aside. Frowning, he can only see a glimpse of green skin as the form hurries away in a long cloak. Shaking his head at the rudeness of the person, he takes the hint of a needing a new topic for his companion.

“Right. So, uh, Peter likes your work, huh?” Bucky decides on, as he is no stranger to uncomfortable questions he isn’t able to answer. He squints into the distance, seeing the cloaked figure continue the direction he’s scrutinizing and frowns again.

“He seems like a good kid. How’d you know him?” she latches onto the new topic easily.

“I don’t. He was in Germany a couple years ago before everything went to shit for the squad. Stark brought him, I guess, and the kid took on both Wilson and me. Did a pretty good job, but I’d already thrown a punch at him when he said something and I connected that he’s just a fucking _kid_. I was honestly terrified I’d punch him too hard and he’d just... go down. He’s so small, god, he’s just like Stevie used to be, isn’t he?” Bucky rubs his face, feeling awful.

At the time of the fight, he had thrown a punch with his full weight into his arm. The kid had caught it, and the words out of the masked person had instantly drenched Bucky in fear.

“ _You have a metal arm? Man, that’s so cool!_ ”

The voice had belied the age of the opponent, and Bucky wanted nothing to do with murdering children. He had felt his eyes go wide, and then caught a kick to the stomach for his hesitation. The entire fight had been a dance of evading, with all of the squad. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, just get out. And then fighting Natalia - no, Natasha - after the haze of the fight they’d had a couple of days prior, that prompted an entirely new fear.

The memories of the woman always seemed to tease him in the distant corners of his mind, through a mist of blood he was downright frightened to press through. 

So he had shut it all down, training compelling him to _finish the mission_ , focusing on the new threat they needed to contain and Do The Right Thing. Even if it meant sacrificing himself against the threat to save Steve and the mission.

_Could have been something good to offset all that bad I’ve done._

Jane takes this moment of Bucky reflecting silently. She looks around, noting the groups they’re passing.

“Where are we going, anyway?” she asks.

“I was trying to see if there was any sort of landscape here. Mountains, hills, anything a bit higher to see everything.”

“Ah,” she says. “I would think that’s unlikely. This place seems-”

She’s interrupted by a woman barreling towards Bucky, grabbing the front of his coat, tears streaking down her face. Bucky tries to pull back, but she has a tight grip.

“ _M’Toka! M’Toka! You have seen my M’Toka, yes?_ ” the woman’s words still ring with unfamiliarity, but Bucky understands her. He shakes his head, putting up his hand in surrender. 

“The little boy? No, I haven’t seen him since I first arrived...” he struggles to get out, letting the woman practically shake him. Her face crumbles and she let’s go of him abruptly, rushing away with the continued calls of “ _M’Toka!_ ”

Bucky frowns and turns to look at Jane, who looks concerned.

“Maybe we should get back,” she says. “You’re not going to find anything different anyway.”

Bucky nods, turning on his heel, glad to be away from the grieving woman.

Jane is eyeing the packs of people with a new severity. They hadn’t walked far from their friends, but the scrutiny Jane is giving the people around her prompts Bucky’s next question.

“What are you worried about?”

“I should have been counting. I can’t determine if there are fewer people or not,” Jane says seriously. “We don’t know anything about this place, and while we seem to not need food or other necessities, what is powering this place? We can change our appearance, due to our own ego, but at what cost? For how long?”

Bucky’s frown deepens.

Jane continues. “I know it seems like purgatory, but why are we here? We could have just been killed. This can’t last forever.”

“Maybe we are dead,” he replies. “Maybe this is heaven.”

Jane snorts in derision, once again surprising Bucky.

“Her skepticism is correct, Barnes,” Strange appears in front of them, a decent distance from the rest of their friends. “We are not in heaven or hell, we’re imprisoned in this place. I doubt Thanos realized exactly what he was meaning to do. However, Dr. Foster is also correct. It’s... leaking?” Dr. Strange seems to stumble on the word as if trying to make it less intimidating.

“Leaking? Like a faucet?” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, incredulous at the term. Strange steps closer to the two of them, his voice dropping.

“People are disappearing,” Strange’s voice is a low murmur. “Although I don’t know if time works here like our universe, it seems like just one or two every hour. I didn’t mention it, since we can’t change anything and could prompt faster disappearances due to panic.”

“I don’t think you can avoid it, Strange, that mother isn’t about to forget her child,” Bucky grumbles. “And what will you do if someone like Wanda disappears? I think we’d all notice pretty fast then.”

Strange shakes his head, putting a hand up. “We should be safe. If we stay the course, we will be where we need to be eventually.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Bucky hisses, stepping into Strange’s space. “How many people are going to be lost?”

Jane stands to the side, eyeing the two of them. 

“Possibly many,” Strange replies merely, unperturbed by Bucky’s encroachment of his personal space.

“Just here? Or are the friends we left behind going to be losing more too?” Jane interjects.

“As far as I know, just here. But there are effects in our world, as well. We will see soon if our visitor arrives,” he says, giving Jane a look of assessment again.

“Visitor?” Jane asks.

Dr. Strange gives a tight smile and strides away.

“Okay, I get that his whole aesthetic is being all-knowing and creepy, but it just makes him seem like an asshole,” she grumbles. 

“Correct again, Dr. Foster!” Dr. Strange calls out without looking back.

* * *

“You seem very agitated when you appear. Why is that?” the Other woman asks, hair in a messy braid over her shoulder this time, peering down at Darcy who’s lying on her back once again.

Darcy blinks up at her.

“I don’t mean to come here,” she finally responds, pushing herself back upright. “Bet my friend is pitching a fit right now to bring me back.”

“Why don’t you mean to come here?” the woman ignores the friend comment.

“Uh, cause it’s weird? I don’t know where here is, and how it exists, and why I keep ending up here, or who you are...” Darcy holds up fingers one by one, counting with her other hand. Standing up, she eyes the woman with a grimace. “Just missing ‘what’ at this point.”

The woman smiles in return. It is somehow more chilling than reassuring.

“I have many names. And I know you have limited understanding. But, hmm, you have a key, no? You unlock a door, open it and pass through, and find yourself in a different room. You’re just in a different room. There are many rooms, this one just happens to be one of mine. Have you tried other locks?”

“How’d I get the key?” she asks, surprisingly unconcerned about the woman calling her stupid.

“You tell me, young one,” is the unhelpful response.

“I’d prefer to stay on Earth where I belong. I don’t need any locks or doors at all,” Darcy replies quietly, trying to keep her voice steady and confident.

“Oh? Not even to see Jane?” the woman asks.

Darcy startles, eyes widening. The woman emits a tinkling laugh, entirely unlike the woman Sandra Lewis was that it gives Darcy another chill.

“I... don’t know how I’m doing it. I’m always on the verge of exhaustion when it happens,” Darcy finally admits.

The woman tilts her head, before reaching out slowly, giving Darcy time to pull away. Darcy stays still, strangely rooted to the spot, and the woman presses a single finger into the middle of Darcy’s forehead.

Pain sears through Darcy’s head, and she cries out. The liquid ground and woman seems to dissipate instantly, and there’s a sheer feeling of force propelling Darcy through a kaleidoscope of featured places.

_Slow down slow down slowdown stop stop stop!_

Her surroundings finally pause, and she hangs, weightless. Her pupils are blown in fear, finding herself in a space devoid of anything but stars and gem-like planets twinkling at her from a distance. The woman is gone, as is any discernible ground, which is only added to the list of mildly terrifying things she’s experiencing at the moment.

_Home. I want to go HOME._

She feels that press again, but fortunately slower so she isn’t feeling the need to upchuck her non-corporeal lunch. There is a wave of force as she passes through multiple layers, light and dark and all the colors of the rainbow flashing in succession that Darcy can’t make sense of. Suddenly, she finds herself slid sideways into the medical-bay in Norway.

Bruce is there, leaning over her unresponsive body that is laying on an unfolded stretcher resting on top of a table. He’s placing monitors on her body.

 _They must have brought me from my office_ , she thinks.

Bruce injects her arm with a syringe, which causes Darcy’s spirit to wince despite not feeling it. He’s speaking in quick tones to the staff, but Darcy isn’t exactly surprised when nothing happens.

“It looks like she’s stabilizing, but I want her monitored just in case,” Bruce states to a nurse that Darcy knows is named Subira, frowning at a machine that shows a jump in activity after a lull. Darcy realizes that perhaps her proximity to her body is helping the readings on it to stop fritzing out.

_Well, fuck, it’s worth a shot._

She walks over to lay down, her spirit disappearing into her body. 

Nothing happens. 

She sits right back up, huffing in frustration. Throwing her legs over the side, she gets up and tries to dodge out of the way of a nurse. After passing through the woman, she cringes from the eerie sensation of being something like a ghost. Shaking it off, she goes back to the corner to survey this surreal situation. Bruce has the nurses helping him set up an IV. Her body seems to be stable and Darcy wonders what went wrong with her brain this time.

_There are no paddles, so at least my heart is still going. Will I die here if I die there?_

The morbid thought crosses her mind before she can tamp it down.

“How did you manage to escape your body?” a voice appears behind Darcy, startling her to spin around with a yelp.

“The fuck, again with the sneaking... who the fuck are you?” she demands and sees a man wearing a green hood and robes. He pulls the hood off his head, dark features smiling kindly as he holds up his hands.

“Do not worry, I am here to help,” he says. “My name is Mordo.”

* * *

The grass is charred where Steve finds himself suddenly standing. The campsite Thor lands Rocket and Steve onto is not at all what Steve is expecting. It looks more like one of those reenactment sets that he had seen pictures of on the internet back when life seemed a lot less complicated. There’s an honest to god bonfire in the middle of the camp, which Thor immediately sets off to, fabric tents and horses arranged strategically.

“Come, my friends. We shall find answers!”

Rocket and Steve follow him, and people start filing out of the tents, looking harried but joyful at the prospect of Thor appearing. A handful of men garbed in armor and holding impressively large weapons congregate before Thor and the apparent leader steps forward with a tight smile.

“Odinson. It is good to see you alive and well. We have been fearing the worst when we have heard nothing from home for many moons, and an unseen force seems to have taken half of my men. What news have you?”

Thor holds up his hand.

“It is a long tale, Andsvarr. Our home is gone, but our people are safe, traversing space on their way to Midgard. The Bifrost is gone, but I am capable of harnessing the power of it with Stormbreaker here,” Thor holds up his shimmering axe, the group of men murmuring to each other. “At least, as safe as they can be after Thanos attacked us.”

“Well, we’re glad for the reinforcements, as... unusual as they appear,” Andsvarr replies, sending a sweeping glance over Steve and Rocket. A stab of amusement hits Steve as he realizes Andsvarr, who is a good 6 inches taller than himself, is unimpressed at their potential to ‘reinforce’.

“We cannot stay,” Thor says firmly. “I must complete my quest with my companions to finish this horror that Thanos has wrought upon our universe. We are simply here to speak to Lady Sif and find if she has heard any information.”

Andsvarr frowns.

“Lady Sif has not been seen since yester-morrow, when half my men disappeared and her companions. I thought perhaps she may have gone on a new mission, she always was finding reasons to leave, but the fact that my men disappeared as well made me wonder if there was something more going on.”

Thor’s face crumples. “Lady Sif as well... How many of your men are left?”

“A few dozen. We have not been attacked since the disappearance, perhaps the Marauders are just as affected?”

“Aye, that would be likely. Thanos’ goal was to remove half of the universes populations,” Thor replies.

“Are you speaking of the Titan?” Andsvarr asks, eyeing the group of men behind him who shuffle their feet nervously.

“That would be he,” Thor nods. “Why?”

“Before she disappeared, Lady Sif had returned with news of his travels. She was always venturing further than the Nine Realms, and thought it might pertain to your quest,” the Asgardian warrior replies. “I will have someone search for the note she wrote to send you.”

Andsvarr waves a hand and they see a younger man run off to a specific tent.

“Is Odin...” Andsvarr seems to chew on the words a moment. “Is the All Father still with us?”

Thor shakes his head.

“Father is gone. Ragnarok has come and our home is gone. I’ve entrusted the rest of our people to the last Valkyrie, and my shield sister once they arrive on Midgard. We shall rise again,” Thor’s words are quiet but firm. The boy returns with the note, rolled up, and hands it to Thor.

Thor unravels it and glances at it a moment before handing it to Steve. 

_Xandar has fallen. The Titan Thanos has the Orb, which encased the Power Stone. He aims for Asgard, knowing the Tesseract is in our Vault. He may know of Knowhere and the Aether already. Please warn King Odin. Thanos’ Black Order has been sent to gather the other Stones and return to Titan with their spoils._

Steve frowns, passing it down to Rocket.

“Yeah, we knew that,” Rocket grumbles under his breath.

“Her information was useful, thank you. We must be off before we lose any more time,” Thor says, clapping Andsvarr’s arm. “I will return as soon as I can.”

Andsvarr frowns but tilts his head in a respectful nod.

Thor turns back to where they had appeared, walking away decidedly. Steve and Rocket follow.

“How was this useful, Thor?” Rocket asks, tossing the note in a random fire and lifting to rest the machine gun on his shoulder. “You knew all this when we brought you aboard the _Benatar_.”

“Yes, but I did not know they planned on returning to his home world, Titan.”

“D’ya think he’s actually there?” Rocket replies. Steve is ignorant of the places they’re speaking about, so chooses to remain silent.

“Possibly,” Thor grimaces a moment before motioning to Rocket. “You have the star chart by chance?” 

“This won’t be a friendly landing, Thor, if it’s his home world,” Steve remarks, feeling tense. Rocket hands Thor the assault rifle. He begins to pull out multiple things from his knapsack, handing the communication device to Steve before finally settling on another device.

“I’ll send Earth info about our next stop,” Steve says as Rocket looks over the holographic image that pulls up of the galaxy.

“Wise choice, my friend. Our friends will be reassured,” Thor replies.

“Here, God-man,” Rocket holds up the scanner to Thor. Steve takes his time to type out a quick message to Natasha, hoping she’ll keep Darcy and Bruce apprised.

_Thor’s Lady Sif is gone. Heading to Titan next. Thanos’ home world. Will be safe._


	7. Chapter 7

“Mordo, huh? How the hell are you here?” Darcy bites out to the newcomer, taking a few steps away. She shivers in disgust at nauseous feeling swoops over her as she accidentally backs through someone. It’s a nurse Darcy recognizes as Subira, being the last person to exit while carrying a tray, leaving Bruce alone in the room. The steady soft beep of her body’s monitored heartbeat over the equipment is an assuring consistent sound in the room. The medical bay is rather sparse, due to lack of supplies, and Darcy is already getting tired of how familiar it’s becoming.

Mordo looks amused.

“Well how ‘the hell’ did you get out of your body?” he replies. “It takes a lot of training to be able to do that. Fortunately, I take note of anomalies here in the Astral Plane, so I can help you if you’ll permit me.”

“Who the fuck are you calling an anomaly?” she grumbles. She feels vulnerable, her body prone on a stretcher, her noncorporeal form hovering reasonably close to it. She watches Bruce sit down at a counter, looking over his pad with a frown on his face. He can’t see Mordo come around to peer over his shoulder.

“‘Temporal displacement injuries’, huh? Sounds exactly like an anomaly, mainly since you survived,” he looks back up at her, eyebrows raised. “Most people just die from the shock, unless properly cared for.”

“Hey!” Darcy walks over to him and is pleased to be able to shove him aside, a nice discovery for this strange layer of life. “That stuff is private!”

Mordo chuckles.

“In any case, you need back in your body, no?”

Darcy eyes him suspiciously.

“What will happen if I don’t manage to get back in?” she asks. Mordo snorts.

“Assured death. I’m not the only one who wanders this plane,” he states blandly. “And as you just demonstrated, you can touch and damage and all sorts of things here.”

“So, either you teach me this trick to get into my body, or I’m going to be eaten by monsters?” Darcy runs her hands through the roots of her hair, tugging, one of the anchoring techniques for anxiety she finds useful usually.

“Something like that. You’ll have to trust me,” Mordo replies, looking sympathetic. “I, too, had my doubts when I was just starting, but until you can trust yourself, you will need assistance.”

“Speaking in riddles, dude. Did you go to school for that?” she snarks.

“I did. I also taught there, so I’m unaffected by your cynicism.”

“Oh. Fine, I guess,” Darcy concedes, sighing. An alarm sounds outside, which prompts Bruce to jump up and run out of the room.

“Shit. I need to wake up like right now, Mor-dude. Hit me with your wisdom, guru,” Darcy claps her hands together.

“It requires awareness of both your body and soul. You feel your soul right now, but your body is in the background, conscious yet not. Duress to your body can prompt you coming back-” Mordo says, but Darcy interrupts him.

“Yeah, Doc hit me with some paddles last time, since my heart stopped. Brain is borked, can’t decide what it wants to regulate. But hey, it brought me back!” she stretches her fingers, trying to feel both her current hands and her body’s hands at the same time. Looking down at her prone body, she grins when she sees her hand move. “Awesome.”

“‘Last time’?” Mordo’s expression shifts, but Darcy isn’t sure if ‘suspicion’ is a strong enough expression for the slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting knocked out of my body pretty regularly. Seen some weird shit, and even weirder people. You didn’t see it in your ‘anomalies’?” Darcy shrugs. “It’s completely by accident, hell, I wish it’d stop happening altogether, but I’m a roll with the punches kind of gal.”

“I see,” he simply says. “In any case, you have to sense both body and soul and as soon as you get a good handle on that... it’s almost a siphoning. I can help prompt the sensation, and you will feel the pull back into your body before you can stop it. Hopefully, you won’t be jarred out of your body again.”

Darcy gives a little two finger salute.

“Whatever you say, Mor-dude. I’ll give it a shot.”

She finds, after being told what to look for, getting into her body is as simple as he states, albeit a surprising sensation.

* * *

Darcy awakes in her proper body with a sharp inhale. No one is in the room. She can hear the slight pings of the medical equipment and sits up.

“Thanks, Mordo, if you’re still here,” she mutters.

Silence.

“‘Kay, be like that then,” Darcy grumbles, sliding off the makeshift gurney, catching herself with her arms as her legs aren’t quite prepared. Hobbling to the door, she ignores the almost blinding headache and about gets knocked into as Bruce re-enters.

“Darcy!” he exclaims, grabbing her by the elbow as she wavers. “Jesus, how did you get up so fast? I step out for one minute and you’re already...”

Darcy shakes her head.

“They’re here, right? The Asgardians? I need a phone. Like yesterday. I was in the middle of the call with my contact in the Norwegian government when I conked out, and despite my efforts, I don’t know if my appeal to essentially _borrow_ a section of one of their islands without permission was particularly successful...” she rambles, trying to get her thoughts in order. 

An errant thought flits through Darcy’s head, a memory of walking with Steve through Wakanda. It was before she had any idea he was her Match, generally wonderstruck at the Wakandan architecture. She had been uncertain, high off the adrenaline of being thrown into a mission that went sideways before she’d even set off. She had still been able to complete that, still managed to warn them of the upcoming battle, but her brain had short-circuited into rambling at Steve. Telling him how little she knew of Asgards hierarchy, even with Jane’s account. The piercing self-doubt causes her to falter into silence.

_I’m going to fuck this up spectacularly._

“Darcy?” Bruce is checking her pulse, noticing her changed demeanor.

“Yeah?” she whispers.

“It’ll be fine. They just want someplace to stay, away from explosions and death,” he squeezes her shoulder. “They will understand how unprepared we are. They weren’t warned that they had to leave their home either.”

“Thanks, Bruce.”

A loud sound of engine noise is heard suddenly, the ship touching down a lot sooner than Bruce anticipated. Darcy brushes Bruce’s hands off the monitors attached to her, managing to keep her feet under her with less difficulty.

She leads him outside, squinting as she sees the ship land about half a mile from the makeshift encampment. It’s rather square in design, a lot of pods seemingly attached to it in odd places which Darcy realizes are repairs to blasts on the hull. She begins to jog towards it, noting the other camp members filing out to come to meet up with the ship as well. The mechanical door opens, the sound of pressurized air coming to terms with the environment, and a ramp appears. A beat passes before a woman appears in the doorway.

Darcy is almost to the ship when the woman gives a whoop of excitement, running down the ramp. Darcy is confused by the woman’s reaction for only a moment, as a giant green beast jumps over Darcy to land in front of the woman.

“Angry girl!”

“Fri-frickity fuck!” Darcy yelps as she drops down instinctively. She gets back up as she realizes it’s Hulk bounding to the woman. The woman affectionately jabs at his leg, the giant then pretending to fall over with a roll.

They play fight for a few more moments as Darcy approaches, uncertain of how she’s going to handle _all_ of the newcomers.

“Ahem,” Darcy starts, waiting for them to notice her. The rest of the ship is beginning to file out, a mixture of people garbed in robes and looking worse for wear. Other aliens are also there, including a giant rock person that Darcy isn’t quite sure how to address.

“Hey. You in charge here?” the rock person asks. “I mean, you must be, no one else is brave enough to come up this close to a giant rock, right, so you pro’bly have some sort of leadership job, yeah? I’m Korg, leader of some of these louts, and yeah, I’m made of rock, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Darcy blinks, nodding.

“Er, yeah, I’m Darcy. Thor asked me to be here for your arrival,” she says, mentally kicking herself to not be nervous. _I can do this, damn it._ “He mentioned something about a merry bunch of characters.”

“I’m delighted. Really, quite delighted, since you’re probably the first place we’ve been since well, forever, that hasn’t immediately pointed weapons at us, since Sakaar wasn’t exactly friendly and everyone we met after that radically chose the unfriendly option of ‘murder’. Unless you’re the same and have guns pointed at me at this very moment. Well, what I can’t see won’t hurt me, will it?” he cheerfully states.

“No weapons, as far as I know. I’ve been working with the locals to at least give you peace, if not some sort of welcome. At this point, they don’t have enough resources to give you the boot if they wanted to, with half the population disappearing...” Darcy replies, a bit off kilter from Korg’s rambling speech.

“Who’s she?” the woman appears next to Korg, glancing at Hulk who is behind her.

“Dun know,” Hulk responds, frowning. “Banner know her.”

“Thanks, big guy, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Darcy sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Thor entrusted me with the integration of the Asgardian refugees to Midgard, colloquially known as Earth, as he’s off-world right now. My name is Darcy Lewis, and-”

“Chasing after Thanos already, is he?” the woman’s eyebrow arches and Darcy forces an unimpressed expression onto her face as her insides melt at the woman’s lilting voice.

“-and I am his declared shield sister. You are Valkyrie, I presume?” Darcy finishes, stare locking with the woman.

“Right,” she replies. They have a moment of sizing each other up, which Darcy knows she can’t win but will be damned if she won’t try when Valkyrie suddenly grins.

“He certainly did want to become a Valkyrie,” she murmurs to herself before addressing Darcy. “ _Shield sister_ indeed. You’re going to be a lot of _fun_ , aren’t you?” 

Darcy snorts, feeling like she passed some sort of test, and turns, motioning to the camp as she sets off.

“Come on, we can get people settled. Do you have an accurate count of everyone? Thor feared there may have been... additional casualties.”

Valkyrie and Korg fall in step with her. Hulk follow behind them, his steps so large.

“Well, we counted 483 Asgardians, of various age and gender, and about 34 other creatures, such as myself and Miek, after our escape from Thanos. But then some spooky magic happened and about half of the ship's population just poofed. Out of thin air. It’s hard to believe, innit, ‘cept it happened right in front of us, so maybe our numbers are off, but-” Korg breaks off to Darcy swearing a storm.

“That purple fucker can’t do _basic math_ and he’s supposed to have the answer for the universe?” Darcy hisses between her teeth as she pulls a phone out of her back pocket. Valkyrie eyes Hulk with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.

_Asgardians here. Numbers around 200. Thanos. Can’t. Math._

Sending the message to Natasha with her phone, she leads them to her office where she has papers spread everywhere.

“Well, there should be plenty of room for families to stay together in their prospective rooms. We’d planned off the initial numbers Thor had given us, which was somewhere in the 500 range like you told me, Korg. Let me get my people organized to start some stations so we can issue rooms efficiently.”

* * *

“God, it’s good to see you Clint,” Pepper starts as they step into her office. She stands up from her desk, rushing around to give each one of them a hug, Natasha blinking with indifference, Lila skirting behind Clint.

“Yeah, you too, Pepper. How, uh, how are things going?” Clint winces with the question, not sure he wants a direct answer.

“Terribly,” Pepper gives a brittle smile. “But pieces are slowly coming together. Tony is alive as far as I can tell, according to Darcy anyways. We have the beginnings of a plan on fixing this, so it’s important to not lose our heads.”

“I’m sorry-” Clint begins, but Pepper holds up her hand to stop him.

“Nonsense. You were out, for a good reason. And we have Accords people, whatever is left of them anyways, already knocking on our door for help. You will suffer no ill consequences for your involvement here or anywhere else,” she says, and Natasha sends Clint a look that states _see?_

Pepper notices Lila behind Clint and peers around him to directly speak to her.

“Lila, isn’t it? We have some other friends coming here, and there’s a little girl about your age. I’m sure we’ll all have a good time while we wait for your daddy and his friends to help,” she smiles, and Lila gives a small smile, reassured.

“Who’s on the way?” Natasha asks, eyebrow raised.

“Scott Lang. His daughter and ex-wife are on the way with him.”

“Won’t it be awkward he’s bringing his ex with him?” Clint asks.

Pepper shakes her head.

“They’re very amicable. The ex’s new fiance disappeared, as well as Scott’s, er, associates,” she replies.

“He didn’t divulge too much about his life, to be honest,” Clint rubs the back of his neck, feeling bad for how little he learned of the guy despite fighting by his side. “He was passed out for most of our cross-Atlantic ‘road trip’, and I was a bit preoccupied when we were all on the Raft. We kept to pretty shallow topics, to be honest.”

“In any case, your room is set up for you and Lila, I’ll let you go and get settled in,” Pepper smiles, turning back to her desk to look over the myriad of screens displaying all sorts of destruction across the city. Clint pulls Lila’s hand as he and Natasha leave, heading towards the elevator again for the floor of suites.

“Can you come by later?” Clint asks, which Natasha nods.

“See you in a bit, Lils,” Natasha tweaks the girl's nose, who giggles, and strides off as Clint ushers Lila into his room.

Later, after making sure Lila was adequately asleep, Clint is pacing the living area of the suite with a drink in his hand. Natasha lets herself into the room quietly, nodding towards Lila’s door. 

“She down?”

“She’s terrified we’re going to disappear. Isn’t so worried about herself, just doesn’t want to be alone,” Clint mutters, sighing. “The fuck happened Natasha?”

“Purple jackass got all the Infinity Stones and decided to half the universe for some misguided, idiotic notion, I’m sure,” Natasha shrugs. “I can show you footage later when Scott arrives, so we don’t have to rehash it. I think it’ll be good to see Scott again, especially since Cassie’s mom is still around, so she’ll be a good fit to watch the girls in a secure place.”

“I’m assuming everyone you didn’t mention before disappeared,” he begins.

“Wanda is gone, yes.”

Clint glances sharply at Natasha who’s staring down at her hands. 

“Vision. Sam. T’Challa,” there’s a beat of hesitation, “Barnes. Fury or Hill haven't contacted us, so we’re operating under the assumption that they dusted.”

Clint frowns but nods. Walking over to snag a drink, he glances at her hand and notices the bandage still seems to be having difficulty containing the blood around her pinky. Clint nods at it.

“You gonna explain that a bit more? You were a bit low on details earlier.”

Natasha frowns as well.

“It was a mistake,” she speaks softly. “I don’t think I need to spell it out.”

“I think you do since from what lie I last remember you circulating, you didn’t _have_ a Match, missy,” Clint pulls out his old man voice, causing Natasha to snort.

“Shit,” she grumbles to herself. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to deal with you ganging up with Darcy if she figures it out. Which, knowing you, you’d team up with her just to annoy me.”

“Darcy? Who...” Clint looks up in confusion, trying to place the name. “Wait, Pepper mentioned a Darcy.”

“Lewis. She was in Puente Antiguo,” Natasha supplies, looking bored at Clint’s understanding glance. “I had to look up your old case files on Thor’s touchdown.”

“Did Foster get brought in to fight? She’s not exactly the brawling type. Scrappy as hell, but not exactly front line material,” Clint sips at his drink. 

“No, we got her after rescuing Darcy,” Natasha shrugs. “Lewis was put through a teleportation experiment. Wakanda to Pennsylvania and somehow survived to tell the tale.”

“No kidding? And she’s okay?” he asks. “She seemed pretty hardy, even if I didn’t directly meet her.”

“Relatively fine. As we were getting her, Foster was about to gouge Stark’s eyes out, it was pretty humorous if we weren’t in a standoff at the time. But someone wasn’t around, so I had to use Barnes as a diversion and Tony took a bit of exception to that,” Natasha mutters, expression carefully going blank.

Clint arches an eyebrow.

“I can’t imagine why,” he responds. “It’s not like we didn’t start an international crisis over Barnes’ supposed terrorism attempts. But, speaking of diversions, you’re stalling.”

Natasha sighs, looking down at her hands, obviously collecting her thoughts. Clint stares into his glass, taking small sips. A few minutes pass in this attitude, ice in Clint’s glass clinking as it melts.

“Do you remember St. Petersburg?” she asks in a quiet voice.

“I cannot believe you’re asking if I remember when I was sent to kill you, but fine, yes, I remember St. Petersburg,” he growls. “Being sent after some world-renowned assassin, but am presented with a literal _child_.”

Natasha sends him a sharp look as if saying _I was never a child and I take exception to that_ , and he shakes his head, motioning for her to continue.

“Do you know why I went with you?” she asks.

Clint frowns, sending her a suspicious glance.

“Because of how charming I was?”

“My mark completed.”

His expression transforms into confusion mixed with concern and he sits forward. “So you think-”

“ _Thought_. We Red Room girls had been told we had no marks. We were only told the very basics to not make our ignorance a liability. So when I was walking down that drizzly alleyway with my String banded around my finger, I had no idea how it happened,” she sighs. “Then you showed up and offered me an out. I thought it was destiny.”

A soft snort emits from her. “Foolish girl.”

“You were fourteen years old, Nat, a brainwashed fourteen year old girl,” Clint states firmly. “But you went with me because you thought I was your Match?”

Natasha nods, uncharacteristically fiddling with her hands.

Clint leans back, feeling dumbfounded. “How did I not _know_ this after this amount of time?”

“You know how those first few years were, me having to prove my loyalty and trying to scramble for any sort of legitimacy I could find. I didn’t know the protocol for Matches then. And when we worked together, we worked _well_ together, so I figured if it’d happened, it’d happen. But when you met Laura, I just figured it was... my penance. I would not be a good Match for anyone, I have too much history and no way to give any... so I was happy when you and Laura Matched. The burden of knowledge was fine to bear,” she shrugs, looking uncomfortable.

“But you say now you were wrong,” Clint arches an eyebrow.

“You weren’t the only person I met that day in St. Petersburg. Piecing together what I now know of marks... there was no way you could have been my Match. It had banded when I met someone else for the mission report a few minutes prior. I just didn’t notice till after you found me. I agreed to your deal so quickly since I thought he might find you and kill you. He was a ghost,” Natasha whispers. 

“I had seen him previously, on loan to the Red Room for training a handful of times... but maybe we were both too broken to Match then... or I was too young. They would have killed me had they known. I was much more expendable, even with all my talents.”

“Natasha...” Clint begins, suddenly realizing where this is headed.

“It began bleeding when he turned to Steve and disappeared before both of our eyes. I didn’t know until that moment, when he was pulled away from here,” Natasha continues. “I... I think Barnes is my Match, and now he’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the later update! I hope it's not too difficult to picture... non-corporeal people walking around is really hard to visualize, let alone explain. <3


	8. Chapter 8

Darcy sits at her desk, head cradled on her arm as she stares out towards the wall. Her mind is a mess of Norwegian language and laws and spotty translations, trying to put together how exactly she’s supposed to be advocating for the Asgardians staying in the country without even technically asking. Fortunately, the island Thor had found himself on for Odin’s departure is mostly devoid of people, the handful of families being downright helpful when Darcy and Dr. Banner arrived in their Wakandan ships and started building a small town. But just because the locals weren’t annoyed at them didn’t mean the government wouldn’t take exception. 

Darcy remains very still as she thinks over these things that continue to ping around her head. She’s beyond tired that even blinking feels like a chore as she just wants to sleep. But a world of strange realms and uncertain monsters are there and she’s downright terrified. So she continually turns her thoughts to the current problems.

The bulk of people that arrived were all nicely situated in their cabin type tents and seemed to be relieved for the first time in ages. However, despite being declared as Thor’s ‘shield sister’, they seemed to give her a wide berth. A little girl, Hanna, had been friendly enough with Darcy before being pulled away by a woman who seemed in charge of a multitude of children; later, Darcy would find out that the children were orphans. The group was a lot more cloistered than she expected, and Darcy isn’t sure of the cause directly, but they seemed to use Valkyrie as a proxy to speak with her. Thank goodness for that, since Valkyrie had been integral with her All Speak for smoothing the mishaps in language between the Wakandan translating device and the documents beleaguered with law terminology. 

The only one who presented a problem in finding someplace to sleep was Hulk. Housing the Hulk overnight is a lot harder than Dr. Banner, so they ultimately agree on putting him in the ship with Valkyrie. Unfortunately, this causes Darcy to be startled awake from the catatonic daze she’s been lulled into at her desk by the sounds of their whoops and yells. 

“What in the Nine Realms are you doing?!” Darcy shrieks when she exits the building, finding Hulk holding a giant tree branch like a baseball bat and Valkyrie hefting what looks like a sizeable octagonal box. Darcy has never seen anything like it, so assumes it came from the alien ship.

Instead of responding, Valkyrie winks at Darcy and throws the box with both arms at Hulk. He manages to hit it with large crack and it goes flying through the air.

Valkyrie jumps up and snags it easily, laughing. The box somehow regains its shape. “Gotta try harda’ than that, Hulk!” 

“Can't handle more!” Hulk refutes, and Darcy pinches her nose in frustration. She can’t entirely blame them for having fun, especially since her ‘working’ wasn’t going particularly well and she really should be sleeping herself. 

“Break! Pause! Time-out!” Darcy begins to flail her arms in whatever motion she hopes means ‘stop’ to the both of them and they come over to her with matching jugs that they both take a swig out of. She glances at the different tents set up a few hundred feet from them, mildly relieved that their antics were kept away from the rest of the population.

“Look, I appreciate a game of old-fashioned baseball, but damn it, it's 3 in the morning!” Darcy speaks on the edge of yelling, trying to restrain herself. “I would love to set up an Avengers Baseball Challenge between everyone later, but maybe without the practice in the middle of the night when everyone is in bed!”

“Com’ off it, love, it’s time to paaartaaay,” Valkyrie slurs as she slings an arm over Darcy’s shoulder. “End of the world still ‘appened, no ‘eroes ‘ere. Might as well draaaank.”

“Drinking can happen during regular hours, Valk. I have shit I have to do in the morning without you guys knocking over trees and making a ruckus,” Darcy hisses as she struggles to pull a resisting Valkyrie with her up the ship's ramp.

“My reaaaal name is Bruuunnhillldeeee,” Valkyrie leans into Darcy. “But _you_ can call me Hildy.”

“Oh, go fucking figure,” Darcy whispered to herself, deciding to deposit Valkyrie onto whatever flat surface is closest at the time. Valkyrie lands on her butt with a snort of laughter.

“Shield girl no fun,” Hulk grumbles as he follows them in. “Hate fun. Hate Hulk like all Earth.”

Darcy turns to look at Hulk, frowning.

“Is that what you think?” she asks, following him as he stomps over to a makeshift hammock. Hulk climbs into it without responding.

Darcy sighs.

“Shield girl is _amazing_ fun, just not when she has to meet with a dignitary from Norway in 5 hours. And Earth doesn’t hate Hulk, _Ross_ hates Hulk. Hulk needs to learn to ignore the assholes,” Darcy states firmly. “And if anyone’s an asshole, it’s Ross.”

Hulk doesn’t respond but Valkyrie gives a small grin, taking another swig.

“Where the hell did you get that anyways? We don't have any alcoholic provisions,” Darcy asks, motioning to the bottles, perplexed.

“The ship 'as a smuggling 'old,” Valkyrie supplies with a slur, holding it out to her. “Yllidien Brandy, wan’ ta try?”

“If I do, will you go to bed?” Darcy is no stranger to drunken bargaining. Jane with sleep deprivation had hilariously similar antics.

“Sure,” Valkyrie agrees far too quickly, and Hulk agrees with a reluctant huff.

Darcy grabs the bottle, sniffing it a moment with a frown as Valkyrie’s eyes seem to light up. Darcy tips the bottle at her lips and isn't sure exactly what prompted her to lock gazes with the other woman, but the next thing she realizes, she's taken about a ten second drag. The fluid is a dangerous combination of a little bit of sweet but just enough spice to let you know it's alcoholic.

“ _Frigga fuck!_ ” Darcy exclaims as she catches her breath from the long drink, the alcohol making her head spin. Valkyrie's eyebrows shoot up at the expression. “Soooorry, I'm not supposed to do that anymore. Trying really hard not to. She was his mum, y’know?”

“I do,” Valkyrie has an amused quirk of her brows, but the rest of her face is solemn. 

Darcy can feel her ears burning as her body processes the onslaught of alcohol to her system.

“Shit. I need an adult,” she mutters as she sways a bit. “Can't make good decisions. Mind asking Banner how stupid it was for me to do that, Hulk? Pro’lly reaaaal stupid with my dumb head.”

“Stupid stupid,” he responds and Darcy blinks owlishly at his back.

“Oh, tha’s nice,” Darcy smiles, cares suddenly melting away. “You and he can chit chat! Oh, oh, have Bruce tell you 'bout how Ross broke me, I'm sure you'll get how much I despise tha’ fucker.”

“Who's Ross?” Valkyrie asks, helping Darcy to sit down on a random chair. Darcy immediately keels over on her side, squishing her face into the armrest.

“Bad man,” Hulk supplies with a grumble as he turns back to the pair of women.

“He broke my brain!” Darcy’s eyebrows knit together as she whines softly. “I didn’t want to be pulled through an inta’dimensional portal and get all fucked up with keys and doors and monsters wearing mom’s face.”

“Y’think she’s always this loopy with a bit o’ juice?” Valkyrie mutters towards Hulk who huffs a chuckle.

“I’m glad you all are here, r’lly I am,” Darcy mumbles, body going slack as she relaxes into the cushion. “I don’t wanna sleep, but I r’lly wish I could...”

There’s a soft brushing back of the hair at her forehead. “Sleep, shield sister. We’ll keep watch.”

It’s the last thing Darcy hears before the pull of sleep deprivation and strong alcohol pull her under.

* * *

“You can see it’s in your best interest to sign.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raise, unable to keep the incredulous expression from showing on her face.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” she asks. The man in front of her desk is just another nameless suit, and Darcy is woefully low on patience today due to the early morning shenanigans. “I don’t remember any invitation to visit being sent to your ‘agency’, especially since Norway is one of the blessedly few countries who didn’t sign the Sokovia Accords. Is this really a priority during the apocalypse?”

“Agent Jeffers, ma’am,” the man is passably attractive, but that just serves to annoy Darcy further. “And we find it the perfect time for our enhanced friends to sign. They need to come together to defeat whatever evil befell us,” he recites, causing Darcy’s lip to curl in disgust. It’s a bit disturbing seeing someone so effectively parrot.

“If you’re going to call me ma’am, then I’m going to give you orders, and you’re not going to like them,” Darcy stands up behind her desk, leaning over it to glare right into his face. “This document will not be signed by any of the people on these premises. This document doesn’t apply to them, to me, and has no semblance of a jurisdiction here. Get. Out.”

Agent Jeffers’ nostrils flare as he picks up the couple hundred page document, shoving it at her chest. “Secretary Ross will remember this.”

Turning on his heel, he stomps out of the room. 

_Fine. I’ll make my point even more transparent._

Darcy follows the man out, still holding the document. She gives a sparing glance at Valkyrie who’s leaning against the wall outside her office casually, watching as Agent Jeffers’ leads his men out of the building and down the steps towards their SUV that’s parked on the outskirts of the little campsite.

“Hulk!” Darcy calls, causing the men to startle as the giant jumps out from seemingly nowhere, glaring at them. She tosses him the document, mildly entertained at how it flutters through the wind, and Hulk catches it. “Smash!”

Hulk blinks at the paper, throwing a confused look at Darcy. He looks downright befuddled at how to accomplish it, so she mimes with her hands. He laughs.

“Stupid paper!” he yells, ripping the rather thick document in half quickly and tossing it at the agents, a flutter of paper on the breeze. The only response is the doors closing on the vehicle and driving off.

“Well, hopefully, they’ll leave us alone, at least until the world is fixed,” Darcy says to Valkyrie, who’s eyeing the display with her eyebrows raised. “I can’t believe they’re bothering us, don’t they have bigger priorities?”

“Did that really help anything?” the woman asks.

“Probably not. But hell, it can’t get any worse can it?” Darcy feels a bit lightheaded suddenly, realizing what exactly she just did. Ross will not take kindly to Darcy purposefully challenging him, and the words she spoke to Jane months ago flutter through her mind. 

_He’s lawful evil, no, thank you. I don’t want to scuffle with Ross if I can help it._

“Shit.” There’s a sudden feeling of her stomach dropping to her toes, that same sinking feeling when Steve left her days ago on his mission with Thor.

“Darcy?” Valkyrie asks in concern. An imbalance hits Darcy and she can feel an icy slide of terror plummet down her throat, _the world tilting, the brightness of the sun is shifting into abnormal hues, purple stars, there’s Hulk, why is he howling?_

* * *

The landing onto Titan is tense for Steve and his companions. They all immediately roll out into defensive positions, Steve scanning the horizon for threats, but the area causes them to lower their prospective weapons and glance at each other with grim expressions.

The world is entirely desolate. The mountains are bare of anything but rock, the buildings in various forms of disrepair, an endless landscape of ruin.

“What happened here?” Steve breathes out. The scale of depopulation is unsettling. It feels like a worldwide purge has happened, even if Steve has no basis for that assumption from this corner of the world. Instead of being reassured, he feels like he’s about to be a victim of an attack like in those horror movies Darcy would insist he watch with her.

Rocket’s knapsack lets out a squeal, which prompts the raccoon to pull it open and look at a device.

“Come on!”

The short creature begins to jog, which prompts them all to begin running, watching the device which is continuing to give a soft ping. Thor offers Rocket an arm, which the raccoon climbs up easily, sitting on the god's shoulder as he points the direction to go. They’re able to keep a pretty fast pace despite the unevenness of the terrain, massive leaps through the air not unusual for either Steve or Thor. 

“There!”

Rocket tugs on Thor’s collar which prompts him to pause on top of a rock. Rocket points off to the distance where a Steve can see a somewhat angular spacecraft parked on one of the few bare sections, fairly unassuming with so many other destroyed vessels nearby.

“It’s the _Benatar_!” 

They continue running towards the spaceship. Upon approaching, Rocket immediately jumps down to smash a button, a hatch hissing open immediately in response.

“Hey! Gamora? Quill?” Rocket begins calling names, echoing through the chamber.

Steve follows at a more sedate pace, keeping a blank expression on his face as it’s clear the spaceship is just as deserted as the planet. 

_this the part of the movie where a tentacled alien appears to eat us?_

Thor glances around, grim expression growing on his face. The environment feels charged as if a small motion could set off a chain of explosions.

“Systems at 20%... no wonder I couldn’t track them from Terra. What did they do to her? Half of the propulsion systems are ripped out, and the battery regulator is completely missing...”

Rocket continues muttering to himself, while Steve walks around, looking at the messy collection of items spread in various corners. The cabin has a well-worn look as if it was a true home for whoever lived there.

However, that means ghosts of memory are everywhere.

Rocket pings a couple other buttons, looking at a list before choosing one. A holographic screen appears, and a neon outline of a man appearing.

“ _Captain’s Log, stardate 41350.3. We received a transmission from Nebula, which stated we needed to come to Titan-_ ” he states, very seriously. Rocket snorts.

“ _Quill, what are you doing? What is a stardate?_ ” a booming voice from the background is heard, and Steve can see a pair of humanoids appear behind the man in front of the camera.

“ _Dude, c’mon. Star Trek? That show was great, and y’know, I was thinking no better time than the present to start documenting what we get to around here-_ ” the man identified as Quill responds behind him, motioning with his hands.

“ _Oh, you’re writing a letter!_ ” the voice that interjects this time is female, a delighted female. “ _A love letter? Maybe Gamora will see it after we save her!_ ”

“ _What? No, Mantis, not a love letter, just keeping track of why we’re here on this dead planet and all. Anyways, Nebula said Thanos was headed this way, so the plan right now is to see him arrive and get Gamora out of his clutches and save the galaxy again._ ” Quill states this all before waving the screen off and disappearing.

“No, no, no...” Rocket begins punching through the buttons again, and another screen pops up.

“ _Captain’s Log, stardate 41672.2. One of the Titan’s ship has crashed landed, and we figured anyone on it would know where Gamora was... well, we were wrong. Just found some Terrans with some jacked up tech and a freakin’ wizard, so after some scuffling, we realized they didn’t have Gamora and were looking for Thanos themselves,_ ” Quill states, before calling out louder into the cabin. “ _They have one of the Infinity Stones, so they stupidly decided to bring it right to him and fight him here instead of mucking up good ole Earth._ ” 

“ _What’re you doing? Strange said you wanted to see me,_ ” Tony’s voice interrupts and Steve inhales sharply, glad to have confirmation that Tony at least survived the trip in the alien spacecraft. Tony appears a little banged up but no worse for wear.

“ _Yeah, he said you might need to say something for the log. I have no idea why, since it’s not like anyone from Earth is going to see it,_ ” Quill shrugs and walks out of shot. Tony frowns at the camera, tilting his head and looking around. After a moment, he sits directly in front of it, looking unkempt and tired.

“ _Well... all right then. Hmmm, took care of Squidward with the power of a teenagers love of sci-fi movies, decided to avoid any more casualties on Earth since the ship was on autopilot here anyways, crashed landed, and found this merry bunch of losers who seem only slightly more lucky than they are suicidal,_ ” Tony speaks very quickly, ticking off his fingers.

“I don’t understand, if they were here, where are they now?” Thor asks quietly, shifting in his spot while looking around nervously. Rocket stands up and starts to inspect the items in the ship, eyeing the weapons locker with a scrutinizing eye.

“ _We... well, we have an attempt at a plan, even if I don’t know how it’ll work. If Thanos gets the Time Stone, it’s game over. But Strange says there’s a way... so we have to work off that. Hopefully, we’ll be going home soon, and the nightmare can finally end._ ”

With those words, the honest look of pure fear that Tony gives the camera is the last thing Steve sees before the monitor shuts off.

The circuit Rocket has been making suddenly ends when he lets out a rage-filled scream and kicks over something with a burst of rage, startling Steve and Thor.

“Quill’s dusted! There’s no fucking way he’d leave his tapes!” Rocket yells, pointing to a compartment where there are small rectangular items that Steve can’t say he’s ever seen before.

“I’m going to go look outside,” Steve mutters to Thor, letting him handle the hissing raccoon who is continuing to thrash the cabin. Thor nods.

“Drax! Drax got this from Hovat, his dead wife! He wouldn’t have left this either!” Steve can hear Rocket scream as he leaves and winces. He isn’t doubting the raccoon’s pain, especially after the Groot fellow had disappeared on him. 

Steve hurriedly walks down the ramp, hoping to god there is some sort of clue of everyone who was here and how many survived. The sooner they figure it out and continue, the better.

_They can’t all have dusted. Pepper’s mark was intact, Tony has to be here somewhere._

Looking around the site, he notices a trail of dried blood on the ground. They’re small splatters, with many footprints around the area, which lead in a few different directions. He follows it over to a platform of rock where he finds a blade. It’s a weapon guilty of causing an injury as it has the same dried fluid all over it. Steve glances around till he sees a spot where a larger pool of blood stains the ground. Leading away from that are blasts and more footprints, a mess everywhere, it’s mostly incomprehensible to follow. Steve frowns as he can see the other direction goes back to the _Benatar_. It’s impossible to tell what sort of person it was spilled from, being caked with dirt and dried so dark. At this rate, Steve can only hope it isn’t Tony’s or his companions.

Following the path of blood back to the _Benatar_ , he goes along with the trail on the opposite side of the ship where there’s a mess of footprints and laser marks to the hull. Steve can see that someone scavenged whatever parts they needed from the larger ship to... what? He continues to follow the drag marks of something rather large, to another spot where there is debris as if a ship had crashed there.

_Did Tony salvage repairs on a smaller ship?_

Steve sits down, feeling hopeless. The weight of being on the planet feels strange, and the slight whistling of the wind magnifies how alone that everything feels. There’s no one here, no sign of Thanos, Tony is still missing, and it seems like they have to assume everyone here is dead.

_Just like at home. Failed them there, so failed them here._

He takes a moment to look down at his wrist where he knows his mark is, hidden under his sleeve. He wishes he could talk to Darcy. She made the defeat look hopeful. But sitting on this dead planet, overlooking the scavenged _Benatar_ , with no clear direction to go... Steve rubs his hand over his eyes to hold in the tears threatening to build there.

_No time for that._

As he lets out a groan, knowing this is not the place to lose it since Rocket is obviously having a harder time and glances at the sunset that’s casting light around the spacecraft. Steve squints a moment, realizing his eyes are resting on the vertical tail of the ship. There’s a glint of light shining through it.

It’s the stylised A of the Avengers symbol.

A bloom of hope fills Steve chest, which prompts him to jump to his feet. Jogging back, he sees Rocket is outside now, breathing heavily as he seems overwrought. Thor is watching him with a critical eye.

“There was another ship. If I had to guess, Tony must have borrowed from your ship here to get the other ship working enough to leave,” Steve states excitedly, hoping the news will help the raccoon.

“Yeah, yeah. The _Benatar_ shows logs of a smaller ship entering the atmosphere and also taking off. It’s D-class, likely operated by Nebula, so if your friend is alive, he won’t be for long if he stole her ship, unless she dusted,” Rocket’s voice is cracking, but seems to latch to the information eagerly. “You didn’t find anything else?”

“No, just signs of battle too frenzied to really make sense of. How many can a D-class spaceship hold?” Steve asks.

“3 at most. But that’s only if you’re all very close,” Rocket shakes himself off, before heading back into the ship. “Can barely steer with 3, let’s be real.”

“Perhaps we should come back another time, sweet rabbit. I will aid you in recovering your ship, like the one in Nidavellir, as soon as we finish our goal,” Thor calls at Rocket, who brushes him off.

Entering the ship again, Steve and Thor watch solemnly as Rocket quickly gathers a strange assortment of items, amongst which are the rectangle items and a thick machete with an ornamental handle. 

“The part that really pisses me off, y’know, really grinds my gears, is that I’m the only Rocket in existence, right? No one like me, no way to do it again, I’m just this asshole creature who fucks up your day. But I’m spared because I’m the only one. So fuck me for not having a family, fuck me for rejecting any semblance of a home my whole life. But when I finally find people who, hey, they’re assholes like me, maybe we’ll manage this together... we make an asshole family. Then they all fucking disappear,” Rocket growls under his breath as he stomps around the cabin.

“I had a lot to lose, Thor. And you lied, saying you had nothing left. You still had more. This asshole here is proof of that,” the raccoon motions at Steve. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Steve replies. He winces as he feels a pain in his wrist, but decides to ignore it due to the layers of his suits armor being entirely too difficult to undo. Rubbing it slightly, he wonders again about Darcy but brushes it aside.

Sticking all of the trinkets he’s gathered in a larger duffle bag, Rocket sets it by the door before giving a resigned sigh.

“The Guardians were my family. And while I don’t know if they’re all dust or dead or whatever the fuck it is, I’m going to assume they are. Since that’s just my luck. So let’s go make that purple fucknugget pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the fake stardates, sorry. Those are just random numbers he guessed with since Star Trek has a specific format for stardates but.. whatever. Close enough, heh.
> 
> Honestly, my brain is mush when it comes to this story anymore. I'm very far ahead, but all progress is much slower now that I'm coming to the end. I feel like I need to probably bounce ideas off someone but don't have anyone right now to do that with. So I'm sorry if the quality has been suffering a bit.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this. <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter since Halloween made my brain mush and I wanted to get this out before trying to crack down on the next bits!

“What the fuck!” Valkyrie screeches, grabbing Darcy’s body as she collapses. Violent shudders wrack through her body as Valkyrie carefully lowers her to the ground. A wave of desaturation crashes over Darcy's sight as she realizes her soul has popped out but she is too disorientated at being suddenly expelled from her body to do anything.

“What do we do, Hulk? What’s wrong with her?” the Asgardian woman hisses, unaware of the bracelet on Darcy’s wrist lighting up in response. Hulk roars, obviously panicked, and people milling around look over. 

“ _Move!_ ” a nurse who Darcy recognizes as Subira appears out of the building, running over with a syringe. Rolling Darcy’s body onto her side, which is still jerking uncontrollably, the nurse jabs it into Darcy’s thigh through her jeans. A few beats of moment pass until her body calms and everyone lets out a breath of relief.

“What happened?” Subira asks, checking pulse points and leaning over with a stethoscope to listen to her chest.

“Nothing! We were just standing here talking and she collapsed!” Valkyrie hisses through her teeth, understandably defensive.

“She’s not breathing, we need to get her inside. Aren’t I the lucky one to actually do the drills Dr. Banner had written up on the way over here,” Subira mutters as she motions past the crowd of people who have started to mill about, a stretcher being pulled through the masses.

“Is Lady Darcy alright?” asks a little Asgardian girl named Hanna that Darcy had managed to befriend the day before. Darcy can see the girls worry and it makes her twinge with guilt. The girl had already seen too much, and someone who’s supposed to be in charge of their new home is already failing them.

“Super okay! She’s just taking a little nap, don’t you worry,” Subira says kindly as they set up her body on the stretcher and rush inside. Valkyrie and Hulk follow, the Hulk looking humorously large in the small building. 

Darcy’s soul trails behind them. She’s finally acclimatized to the change of visuals, fortunately still on the familiar planet, watching all of the events play out in an eerie perspective. It’s a bit confusing why there isn’t a feeling of panic, being tossed out of her body without warning, but then snorts in understanding.

“My brain really is broken, isn’t it? I’m rockin’ this otherwise,” she mutters to herself. “Physical body just can’t handle the stress.”

“I need an intubation tube, stat!” Subira screams as they burst into the medical bay. Another nurse appears with the item and they successfully set it in her throat. The extra nurse hand pumps the bulb while Subira gets the corner ready with a myriad of machines. She starts one, testing the suction a moment before nodding at the other nurse.

Moving Darcy’s body to the bed is straightforward with Hulk carefully handling the stretcher with one hand as the nurses work around him. Subira unhooks the bulb from the intubation tube and connects it to the machine as the other nurse sets an IV on Darcy’s prone form. Breathing in regular intervals, the sound of her pulse is consistent, and Subira attaches monitors to Darcy’s temples once again.

“Man, that was really well orchestrated. Well done everyone,” Darcy says. It’s a sad realization that they can’t hear her, but it’s relieving that her body is at least temporarily fine.

Hulk begins to pace in agitation, Valkyrie pursing her mouth in an expression that just says _well, shit._

“Look, I don’t know what to do here. I’ve made her as stable as I can, just like Dr. Banner explained to me. But I can’t begin to guess on what happened or why. As far as my records show... she’s never done this from a full cognitive state. Not to this extent. If we didn’t have this ‘oh shit’ monitor on her, she would have likely died before anyone realized she was missing and hurt,” Subira says, looking grim. “This is beyond our capabilities without a proper hospital. Without a doctor.”

Subira sends a nervous glance to Valkyrie, avoiding eye contact with Hulk, who is beginning to rumble low in his chest, anger plastered on his face.

“How long can you handle her here? We don’t know when Thor will be back, and she’s our main contact with anyone on this planet,” Valkyrie asks. 

“Couple days, maybe a week. The supplies we brought from Wakanda were enough to hold her until we could transfer her in worst case scenarios. This looks like the worst case to me,” Subira sighs. “We still have to properly set her up, this tube is only temporary. There’s nothing more to do. I’ll go and try to contact Princess Shuri in Wakanda and see what she recommends. If you’ll excuse me.”

Valkyrie nods as the nurse leaves.

“Well... shit. I need a drink.” 

“Banner fix her,” Hulk rumbles low, angrily. “But no Banner.”

“Eh, really? Can’t get him back?” Valkyrie jumps up on a counter and leans over, resting her arms on her knees with a sigh.

“No.”

Darcy sits next to her, in her soul form, frowning. She can’t feel the edge of her body at all, the familiar tug back into it is seemingly gone.

“Mordo! You here somewhere?” Darcy yells, looking around, before realizing that perhaps she shouldn’t do that. Mordo had specifically warned her about monsters who roamed whatever realm this was that layered over the ordinary reality. It would figure that she’d manage to get herself killed by drawing attention to herself.

“Banner... sad. Want to fix her,” Hulk clenches his fists together. “Hulk no help. No smash this.”

Valkyrie eyes Hulk critically as he slaps his face a couple of times.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you quite so soon,” Mordo says as he appears through a wall. “It’s only been, what, a couple days?”

“Fuck, Mor-dude, don’t jumpscare me like that!” Darcy glares at him. “How do I fix it this time? I can’t feel my body at all.”

Mordo glances at Darcy’s medically assisted body and her shadowy form and squints.

“You’re barely connected... you do realize that if your connection is severed, you die, right?” Mordo gives her a look of complete disbelief. “Although, your mark...”

“Right. No, I didn’t know that, you didn’t exactly explain that last time. Is that why my brain is all fucked up? Something wrong with my soul or something?” Darcy interrupts as she moves closer to her body, hoping it helps.

Hulk sits down with a large thump on the ground, rocking his body in a rather sad fashion, muttering unintelligibly under his breath.

“You were pulled through a portal, you said?” Mordo asks clinically. “And you said before that you’ve been visiting different places, and people?”

“Yeah. Mostly just this one place, this lady - although I’m not entirely sure who she is, she seems more Other than anything else - said I had a key. Whatever the fuck that means,” Darcy explains, looking down at her body’s arm where she can see her body’s soulmark. It’s glimmering with an unusual brightness, silver as before, and she confirms by looking down at her shadowy wrist that it’s matching in intensity. 

“Whoa... how did I not-”

She’s interrupted by a flash of orange light suddenly appearing in Mordo’s hand, the glowing substance hanging down like an ominous whip. Mordo reels back with it, giving Darcy exactly a moment realize he’s going to whip her with it.

Yelping, she rolls to the side over her body. The whip glides through the air with a fiery hiss, going through the objects it finds in the way, but Darcy isn’t about to doubt it’s ability to harm her noncorporeal form.

“What the fuck, dude!” she yells, jumping over the cot and away from him. 

Valkyrie frowns, tilting her head as if she can hear something. 

“You have a key to another dimension and you think I could simply let it be? I thought perhaps the last time we met, your soul being out of your body was simply a fluke, an accident. But no, you can unlock access to worlds, worlds you cannot even fathom? That you could, even unintentionally, pervert the balance of this world? Aberration! You must be removed,” Mordo stalks towards her, transforming the whip into a large blade. “I shall be quick.”

“ _No!_ I don’t have a key, that’s just what she said! What the fuck am I going to do with any bullshit like that, I just want to babysit genius’ and find my little corner in the world!” Darcy wails in response, tripping over her feet as she steps backward in terror.

“ _The world is on fire!_ ” Mordo roars. “Don’t you see? If Strange had not bargained with Dormammu, if he had not broken the laws of nature to revert the Sanctum, if the Ancient One had not feasted so selfishly on that dark power, we would be safe! This genocide we live in, this, this reckoning, is a result of foolish humans greedy desires, and I will be complicit _no more_!”

Valkyrie jumps up, pulling out a dagger from her hip and glancing around in confusion. “Who’s that then?”

Mordo ignores her.

“ _I don’t know what you’re talking about!_ ” Darcy feels tears spill down her cheeks, her back against the wall and wishing she could pull Valkyrie into the realm to help her.

Hulk frowns at Valkyrie, shaking his head. “What?”

“I am truly sorry, for your involvement. It seems to have been unintentionally done. But if you hold power, not of your own, you cannot be trusted. You could unravel the fabric of the universe, especially with your ignorance,” Mordo continues in a solemn voice, shaking his head as he raises his burning orange sword. “I take no pleasure in this.”

Mordo brings the sword down. Darcy screams as she puts up her arms to protect herself.

The room blooms with light. Valkyrie and Hulk both yell out in surprise as electrical components in the room explode with electricity. The monitors give an alarmed chirp before falling silent, the devices fried.

As the light dissipates a bit, Darcy looks up in surprise to see Mordo’s sword stopped a few inches from her face. A bright circle is emitting from her soulmark forming a familiar shield that is projecting out from her arm. Marveling at this strange power coming from her, she realizes that she can see the star emblem on it, a true confirmation of who her Match is. Distracted, she doesn’t expect the offhand punch Mordo throws at her face.

Pained by the contact, she yelps, and trips backward through the wall, falling through the ground and into a spiral of incomprehensible realms.

* * *

“Hey man,” Clint says as Scott exits the elevator into the common room. A woman and girl follow, looking around themselves in interest.

“Uh, hey Hawkeye,” Scott replies, making Clint raise his eyebrows. “Er, Clint.”

“This is my daughter, Lila,” Clint nods and squeezes his daughters shoulder, who is eyeing the newcomers with nervous anticipation. The strawberry blond woman holds the other girl's hand, looking tired, bags under her eyes showing the strain of the events.

“This is my, uh, ex-wife Maggie and our daughter Cassie,” Scott introduces, plopping down on a seat. “Being here is weird, y’know? I only came here once to meet with the lawyers, and it was a get-in-get-out-thanks sort of thing. Now we’re staying in the family suites of the Tower? Pym’s not going to believe it.”

Clint eyes Scott before sitting down on the couch as well. Cassie lets go of her mother’s hand and approaches Lila, who smiles weakly.

_Lila isn’t used to being without her brothers._

The girls start to speak softly between each other, and Clint can already tell the Tower is in for some trouble if the girls figure out how to rope anyone into their schemes.

“Do you know where our rooms are?” Maggie asks, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. Clint nods to a hallway that leads out of the common area. 

“FRIDAY? Can you lead Maggie to their rooms?” Clint asks, nodding once again as a light illuminates along the floor.

“This way, Ms. Lang,” FRIDAY’s voice filters through the room and Maggie disappears down the hallway.

“Can I go with Cassie, dad?” Lila asks, which Clint nods. She follows Cassie out of the room.

With just Scott in the room with him, Clint sighs.

“How are you doing?” Clint asks, eyeing the other man whose head drops back on the sofa with a groan.

“They all disappeared. I was in a, uh, chamber of sorts doing some work. When I came out of it, my, uh, friends were gone. Fortunately, an acquaintance knew of my work and came to let me out, but I knew something was wrong, it was just too late. I called Maggie, who answered in a panic since her fiance’ had just disappeared. ‘ _He turned into dust, Scott, is this you? What’s happening?_ ’ she’d asked. She’d holed up in her bedroom with Cassie, so that was reassuring that my daughter was still around. I called my friend Luis next,” Scott begins speaking as if he’d been churning on this information for hours. “He didn’t answer. After running over to the firm, I find him in there with a freaking shotgun behind the door since both Dave and Kurt both disappeared in front of him and he could hear looting in the streets.”

“He didn't want to come?” Clint asks.

“The firm isn’t in the best neighborhood. I helped him grab the important documents to keep things afloat if this gets fixed, and he headed out to his extended family that lives outside of the city. I guess his grandma had kept him on the phone when I was trying to get ahold of him, so... priorities,” Scott shrugs. “As much as I love the guy, he’s built for blending into sensitive situations, not full on fighting. Bar brawling, maybe, but not... whatever this is.”

Clint nods, slapping his leg as he gets up.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, Natasha has set us up with a full debrief of what happened.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s go.”

Scott jumps up in a rather eager fashion to follow Clint into the elevator that FRIDAY opens. 

“Man, how cool is this building, anyway? Pym didn't go into full-blown AI, preferring to teach our little friends how to do most tasks, not robots or anything. A different approach than Stark, obviously. I can’t really believe I’m here, to be honest. I’m kind of mixed up about it, being that Stark got me locked up, but then also got those charges off of me fairly easy for an international incident and all...”

It’s painfully evident how Scott is avoiding asking about Clint’s losses. Even if his family hadn’t been a part of the casualties, Clint is still missing many of his friends. He’s mildly grateful, uncertain how he’d explain it. One of the reliefs of Natasha was that she’d merely inferred who was gone, making words unnecessary. 

It makes it easier to ignore.

“Yeah, that team of lawyers was a godsend, but I kind of wonder where we would have been if they’d been unsuccessful,” Clint says. “Would we have been on the front lines, pulled out of prison or left there to rot as our guards disappeared? Hopefully this next hoorah goes better if we’re all a team.”

“Yeah. I can let bygones be bygones since Ms. Potts pushed so hard for our release. At least I had Cassie and wasn’t stuck in that underwater prison still,” he replies, sighing. “It’s all worth it if we can do something.”

The doors open to Natasha standing in front of it.

“Natasha. Ready?” Clint states as she stares down Scott who looks unsure.

“As ever.”

“Don't you give me that look, you defected, you defector!” Scott mutters at her. “I still don't get how you got out of it.”

“Sheer force of will,” she mildly states in that unperturbed way of her as she turns and leads them to a control room. She motions to the chairs and sits down herself. “Let’s begin shall we?”

The briefing takes only a few minutes, Natasha’s clinical style being succinct as she shoves pads of information at them to read over with her small presentation. 

“As it stands right now, Rogers’ team hasn’t turned up anything particularly definitive about Thanos’ whereabouts. The last contact I had was they were heading towards Thanos’ homeworld, but it’s been silent since. The further they are, the longer the transmissions seem to take to get back,” Natasha finishes saying to Clint while Scott sinks into his seat. “But at least it’s something.”

“Jeez, I don’t know what to say. What’s the plan when they find out where Thanos is? We just go kick his ass?” Scott asks, looking genuinely befuddled. “I mean, I don’t think anyone’s going to mourn that loss but seems angled a bit more on the vengeance side. And doesn’t exactly fix what he did.”

“The infinity stones are all housed on a gauntlet. We will determine how to use it and hopefully bring the universe back to the way it was before,” Natasha shrugs. “That’s the leading theory anyways. We’re kind of down our regulars here.”

“You sure we can?” Clint asks, looking unsure. “Thor was particular about how powerful the Tesseract and Aether were. Hell, the Aether almost destroyed his Match. You think we have anyone who can handle that power?” 

“Rocket gave us a quick debrief on his group’s exposure to one. They were involved with the Power stone, which brought them together as a team. As in, they chained hands and were able to disperse the power between them. But at this point, it’s all theory and has a lot of pitfalls. And, well, even if the threat of Thanos is negated... how long would we have the gauntlet in our possession until someone else tried to steal it? Unlimited cosmic power? We won’t have a lot of time to test it,” Natasha replies, musing to herself aloud. Turning to Scott she frowns.

“You are free to decline. You and your family are more than welcome to stay at the Tower. We just thought we’d offer the opportunity to help regardless. I’m sure with your talents we could find something for you to do that could be less dangerous.”

“Oh, hell no, I’m comin’. You think I could stand by with the chance to bring Hope back?” Scott sounds surprised. “I’m not going to give up on Hope without a fight. I owe her and her dad more than I can really say. And I dove into the Quantum Realm to save Cassie... and her world. This has to be put to rights.”

“Well, I know I’ll appreciate your tricks in a fight,” Clint says. Suddenly, a slight shake trembles through the room and Natasha pulls up her tablet with a frown.

“Er, FRIDAY,” Clint asks. “What was that?”

“A ship has crashed onto the podium,” FRIDAY dutifully responds. Clint jumps up with Natasha as FRIDAY’s voice continues. “Despite the smoke and debris, my sensors are detecting an Iron Man suit. It appears sir has returned.”

Natasha and Clint immediately exit the room, with Scott yelling after them. “I guess I’ll head to my room then!”

“Sounds good, Lang!” Clint replies as he dashes after Natasha, jumping into an elevator with her. 

“You think we can make a ‘chain’ work?” he asks her. Natasha shoots him a disgruntled look.

“It begs more questions. Who exactly will we ‘chain’ together? How many would be necessary? Do we all need to touch the gauntlet, or can one person wear it and hold hands? Would that person survive? And if not... who would we sacrifice?” Natasha frowns. Clint is surprised at how much she’s mulled over this particular route when she continues.

“Banner’s had a death wish since the Hulk came over his life. Steve wouldn’t hesitate. Thor’s always prepared to meet death with a smile. Who knows what damage Tony’s been hit with,” she says before dropping her voice. “And I can think of a whole lot of red that would be washed away with it.”

Clint raises his eyebrows. The rest of the ride up is tense as he ponders Natasha’s words. As selfish as it feels, the possibility of bringing everyone back doesn’t even register in comparison to his family. If it meant bringing back his entire family, _his_ world, Clint would sacrifice himself in an instant.

A small ping emits from the door as it opens to smoke and debris.

“You Terrans are _awful_ pilots!” a woman with blue segmented skin is screaming. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got us here, didn’t I? I pilot suits all the time and I’ve never had complaints before,” Stark replies saucily, turning at the sounds of the door opening.

“You are the only one _in_ your suit, why would you complain about yourself to yourself?” the woman hisses. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming to this shithole planet-”

“Oh, look, it’s my friends! Wait, are we still friends? I’m a bit fuzzy on if we got over that little snafu with the Raft or if us getting all those treason charges dropped was enough to-” Stark is interrupted by Clint clapping him on the shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Tony. What happened to you?” Clint asks, releasing him. Tony looks a bit bewildered at the personal contact but shakes it off.

“We took the fight to him. I couldn’t have another massacre on our hands if Thanos came to Earth, and he wouldn’t expect it. He didn’t expect it, it just... failed. Nebula here and I are the only ones left, and we had to cannibalize another ship to get here as fast as we did,” Tony explains, looking haunted. The elevator dings once again as the doors open.

“Tony!” Pepper leaps out of it, running to her Match as quickly as she can. “What were you thinking, going onto that ship like that, I didn’t know what happened to you...” 

Pepper begins sobbing into Tony’s chest.

“People are gone, Tony, it doesn’t make sense. I-I-I had to release the Iron Legion to try and save some helicopters before they crashed into the Tower, but so many other people are dead and-and I’m just sitting there terrified that everyone I knew was _gone_. No one would answer their phone, I could only sit there and watch. Thank god Darcy called me back, she told me it sounded like you were alive because my mark is unaffected...” she rambles and Tony pulls her closer, holding her as close as he can, looking as distraught as she is.

Natasha and Nebula eye each other, as if sizing each other up, and Clint can’t help but overhear the conversation between Tony and Pepper.

“Pepper, Pep, I’m here. I’m here. Nebula and I were the only ones who survived. Peter, y’know, the spider kid? He had the Iron Spider suit, but it didn’t matter, he still fell to the ground, he still fell. Pepper, he begged me, _begged me_ , and I just... I couldn’t. Nothing,” Tony’s voice is low but cracking in almost confusion as if this is the first time he’s stopped long enough to think about what he witnessed. “He’s gone.”

“Oh, Tony, no...” Pepper whispers. “He was such a good kid.”

“Was? No, he is a good kid, and fuck if I won’t get him back somehow. How... how many are gone here?” Tony asks quietly. “You mentioned Lewis, she peachy? What about Happy or Rhodey?”

Natasha interrupts with a pad, thrusting it at Tony without a word. He takes the pad and scrolls through it very quickly. His demeanor deflates further as he works his way down.

Clint remembers the file from when he first arrived. It had just been shown to Scott moments prior. The list of assumed disappeared is staggering. Then you reached the secondary report of all the confirmed deaths due to people being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like the sidewalk of people that had been mowed down by a semi truck when the driver dusted. Or the plane full of people which went down in an urban crawl due to the pilots disappearing. Clint shudders.

Tony glances up from the pad, digesting the names very quickly.

“You’re the only one here from Team Fugitive?” he asks Natasha, whose eyes narrow in response. “What about Darcy? Where’s she at?”

“Do you not consider Darcy a fugitive after Ross made her one?” she retorts with a huff. Clint is mildly surprised he’s not considered in that group, but guesses Tony reclassified him after his parole. Pepper is glancing between the two with pursed lips and Clint eyes the annoyed alien woman in distrust.

“Is she still with Rogers in Wakanda?” Tony asks, frowning. 

“No, they dropped her off in Norway. Thor wanted her to greet the Asgardian refugees-” Pepper starts, but Tony interrupts her again.

“Thor’s back? _Refugees?_ ” he cries out. “What do you mean they ‘dropped her off’? She’s not a goddamn _dog_ they can board up for the weekend while they jaunt off on-”

“Thor, Steve and another, er, being named Rocket left the planet to search for Thanos,” Natasha interrupts, and Clint can see the alien woman narrow her gaze. _So she knows of this ‘Rocket’_. “Darcy has been fine, as far as we can tell, she’s been sending me texts and keeping me apprised of developments. Bruce is with her, Steve didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone as she-” 

Natasha cuts off with a frown as she pulls out a vibrating phone from her back pocket.

“She, what, Romanoff?” Tony asks. Natasha sends an alarmed look at him.

“Bruce is bringing her, they’re almost here. He needs his lab... Darcy collapsed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's bit was challenging to write because how do you write a character with two scenes layered on top of each other? D: I messed with formatting possibilities until I realized I just had to run with the general sense of explaining it... otherwise, so much of this story would be in italics and I need that for particular parts. Hopefully, it's clear enough.
> 
> But yay, Scott's there! The girls can have shenanigans! I still need to watch Ant-Man and Wasp properly, I only know smatterings of what happened, but know about the 'ending' enough to write this I think. And oh yeah, Tony's back, yay!?


	10. Chapter 10

A thread of color shimmers along the edge of Darcy’s vision. She can't quite catch her breath, the sounds and heat and cold and everything in between overwhelming her as she falls through multiple realms. She loses count, wildly aware that she can't seem to hold herself still, can't control her dive. If only she had any idea of what she was doing.

Darcy begins to wonder at her existence as she careens through realms. The chance of being involved so intimately with all of this action is astronomical, but then she realizes it's the same for any of the heroes. Some courted danger with their research, or just straight up dove into it because of their personality, or were broken in by means outside of their own. Darcy supposes she’s of the latter category, albeit not a hero since she was just a pawn pulled through an experimental portal on the order of a man’s conviction weeks ago.

Spinning in this abyss, the flickers of places and creatures she can’t begin to imagine, she wishes she wasn’t so scared. Her mind meanders down to the last time she felt like a coward, around all of the struggles with Steve being her Match. Her timer counting down to zero slowly, only to slap her in the face with her Match disappearing instantly after meeting him. Steve had been like smoke, and having direct experience with her own mothers matchbreak, she was skeptical to the chances of ever actually meeting him again. Then Steve reappeared, and all the misunderstandings spilled out. The possibility of him being her Match Darcy met with disbelief, noting her actions as painfully self-preserving, trying to avoid disappointment. After traveling a painful road, they finally worked through most of their insecurities, but it was still new and terrifying and... all shoved to the side for the apocalypse.

Thinking of Steve makes a pang of pain hit Darcy. If she ever wanted a confirmation that Steve is her Match, his shield appearing out of her mark to protect her from Mordo’s attack is it. Steve is probably utterly unaware of her condition, and it hurts her to know how badly he will take it if he arrives before she manages to find her way back.

Darcy loses track of time. She meanders through the realms, pace lagging as her heart rate slows down. Nothing has interacted with her and she manages to pause on a rather impressive looking mountain, two stone columns reaching straight up into the sky. Looking up, the view to the stars is breathtaking, which Darcy finds interesting as there is light pollution from a solar eclipse behind her.

_How are they so bright? Jane would love this._

Her eyes fill with tears as she thinks of her friend. While Darcy isn’t sure if there’s an escape for herself in this slideshow of realms, she is more concerned for her friends. With their team scattered, there is little chance of successfully handling Thanos.

Another shift and Darcy finds herself against rolling green hills and presented with a sunset. The silence presses down on her and she feels a vast emptiness, loneliness keen on her senses. Time has passed in such an abstract way that she begins to think of everyone who’ve left, all of her dusted friends. The desire to distract herself with Jane and Wanda about her strange travels, to amuse herself with Bucky and Sam about her Match and his reckless abandon into missions...

The world shifts once again and she finds herself standing in an amber realm. The placement of her feet - were they her feet even if they were noncorporeal? - against the ground seems final. Darcy looks down at them, shuffling her feet as the ground feels odd. Murmurs gather around her, and she looks back up.

There are hundreds of people staring at her.

A spike of fear hits Darcy.

There is only a moment of hesitation to look at each other before they begin to rush at her. They crowd around her, crying out in languages she can’t begin to decipher with their voices blending. Touches against her hair and arms and skin and despite the semblance of air she can't breathe. There is no place for her to go, any direction she turns is someone, crying and pulling at her. Some are furred, some are slick and shiny, some are just as humanoid as she is. They're everywhere and she isn't sure how to convince them to leave her alone. Darcy cries out in fear, lost to the plaintive cries of the people around her, and tries to tuck her body in on herself as she brings herself lower to the ground. Their bodies are tugging at something at her, pulling her apart in a way she can’t explain, and it sends sharp tingles down her soul.

Suddenly, a whirl of red shoots around her and Darcy screams. The last time she remembers seeing such encompassing red magic, it was possessing Jane, and like hell if she is going to somehow be entered by one of those stones after all of the shit she's gone through. She covers her head and cowers into her legs, where she finally registers that she can see her soul illuminating the area with a silver blue.

_What. The. Fuck._

The red magic pushes the people and creatures of various types back, relatively gently. Darcy can finally breathe enough to notice they're all a muted color like they've been turned down on the brightness and hue scale in post-production on a movie. It's jarring to see in person. She looks over at the red magic that wraps into a smaller area and parts into an entrance of sorts. Wanda stands there.

"Oh my god!" Darcy shrieks, scrambling to her feet. "Wanda!"

A man steps in front of Wanda, cloak fluttering around him and Darcy stops. Just because Wanda is here isn't a guarantee of either of them being out of danger. Nearly being mauled by a crowd is proof of that. Darcy lowers her stance a little, about the only defensive thing Natasha managed to drill into her skull during their sporadic training sessions. If he's an enemy, Darcy isn't sure what she'll do, but at least she'll try.

Then the man pulls another woman into her sight and shoves her in Darcy’s direction.

_Jane._

" _Jane!_ " Darcy yell. All hesitation is instantly forgotten. Jane darts forward, that same desaturated hue and they embrace each other tightly. Darcy is relieved that Jane’s presence doesn’t pull at her like the mob of beings moments before. She can feel a soothing beat against her skin with Jane’s touch.

"Darcy, Darcy, oh my god, you're okay, are you okay? How are you here?" Jane asks in quick succession. Darcy can already see Jane trying to work out what is going on with science and shakes her head.

"I don't know, I can traverse realms, I think? I can't get a straight answer and this asshole just tried to attack me over it-" Darcy bites her lip hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. It’s so good to see Jane, but Jane’s still not home. This cruel limbo could merely be the beginning of a goodbye.

The man by the entrance approaches slower, their area contained by Wanda's magic for relative privacy.

"Hello, Miss Lewis," he says blandly, which makes her frown. "I appreciate you not attempting to blast me, it wasn't particularly pleasant experience the other times I met you."

"What?" Darcy asks. "Who are you?"

"This is Dr. Strange, Darcy. He’s the one those aliens kidnapped that Stark went after," Jane explains. "Remember the footage?"

Darcy hums in agreement, eyeing Strange critically, piecing together the outfit with the choppy video footage that had made the rounds in Wakanda. It had been moments before Steve threw on his suit and took off to look for Wanda and Vision.

"So you're the asshole who covets the Time Stone. Which left us utterly defenseless to plan on protecting it."

Strange narrows his eyes at her. "The Eye of Agamotto has been in the safety of the Kamar-Taj for-"

"Yeah, and you've all been doing a bang up job," Darcy snorts. Her emotions are frayed after Mordo’s attack and subsequent fall through realms. She glances around, seeing the horizon past the droves of people. It reminds her of the Other lady’s place, just a muted amber color instead of purple.

"Advertising its existence to the rest of the community would have caused problems you can't even begin to foresee," Strange states, unaffected.

"What, like breaking the natural law of time and bargaining with Dormammu?" Darcy asks, reminded of the bizarre ramblings of the man who had just tried to kill her. She isn’t even sure what the hell it all means but feels a sense of satisfaction at the surprise that flickers over Strange’s face.

"Breaking the natural law?" Dr. Strange pauses for only a moment before shaking his head with a resigned sigh. “Mordo.”

"Yeah. That asshole. Met him. Seemed like a helpful fellow at first until I mentioned my newfound ability and then raved at me while he tried to kill me, which is why I'm here. Who the fuck knows if he actually succeeded. Am I dead? Is that why I'm with you? Are you dead?" Darcy asks.

Jane touches Darcy’s arm, pulling up the wrist with her mark on it. The zero on her wrist shimmers brightly here, brighter than her illuminated skin. Jane holds up her own mark to compare the two and finds them pulsing with a similar regularity.

"We're both still connected to our world," Jane concludes, although Darcy can't imagine what she's talking about. “We - the people here - are not dead, just... waiting? You have a similar rhythm, but you are different, Darcy.”

"Indeed," Dr. Strange agrees, eyeing around them before landing on Darcy. "You’re an anomaly and your time here is limited. So when you return to the 'real' world, it would be best if you remain silent on seeing anyone here. It doesn’t matter how slight you think the comment is, Mordo - or others - could overhear if you do. It could fracture _everything_.”

"Fracture what? Nothing has changed. Everyone in the ‘real’ world is the same, going on missions, doused in depression, trying to figure out how to revert the apocalypse. As far as I know, just getting every who’s alive together is being a bitch and a half.”

Strange shakes his head. “There’s a way to fix everything, so long as you remain silent.”

“What way?” Darcy demands, which causes the man to glare at her.

“Even if I managed to explain it in due time, do you honestly expect you’d remember it all? Remember all of the different reasons people have to be where they are? Or be able to manipulate them into the proper place? No,” Strange grumbles out impatiently. “Our path is set, we can only hope that everyone else figures out where they need to be. There are no coincidences, Darcy Lewis, only the plans of forces beyond our reasoning. And for some godforsaken reason, you die if you fail in what I’ve told you, which can unravel the whole tapestry. I’d much rather avoid that, so _be silent_.”

Darcy thinks about the strange Other lady she’s seen. The worlds that she’d passed through to get here, the creatures she had a glimpse of before moving along. At any moment of her travel, she could have been killed. There’s no guarantee that she couldn’t be killed in this particular realm, even with her friends protecting her. 

“Fine. I’ll try my best to be vague, but our avenging friends are a nosy bunch. Especially my Match,” Darcy frowns as she realizes just how difficult it will be to lie. “But I really don’t have a deathwish. Mordo pulled a sword out of nothing to kill me, no thanks.”

“Is your body stable after his attack?” Strange asks, looking troubled.

“I have no idea. I was already fucked up before my fight with Mordo. The nurses will do what they can but, well, we lost Dr. Banner to the Hulk, and while his smash work is amazing, it just won’t cut it for a seizure induced coma-” Darcy is cut off by a yell.

“Strange!” 

The three of them look over, seeing Wanda struggling to maintain her field, with Bucky and Sam - _whoa, when did Sam get wings? And Bucky’s arm isn’t metal anymore?_ \- arguing with people who are crowding at the entrance. Darcy blinks, looking confused.

“What’s happening?” she asks. “This place is a bit sparse for a realm, but definitely more crowded than that other lady’s realm.”

“Other lady?” Strange asks her sharply. 

“You’re not going to try to kill me like Mordo if I tell you about it, right?” Darcy eyes him suspiciously.

A burst of angry voices comes from the small entrance and distraction prompts Strange to take off towards it. The red field swirling around them falters for a moment before strengthening again. Jane looks at Darcy in concern and they follow, Darcy clinging to Jane’s hand.

As they approach, Darcy can hear the sounds of arguing and threats of violence. _Are we flesh here, do punches even hurt us?_ she wonders. Bucky is trying to shove people back, the glow on his left hand surprising Darcy as he points out into the horizon, a blatant display to have them leave. Sam is trying a more pacifist route, arguing calmly but remaining firm. A group of others who seem to be a part of the squad shift in uncertainty as they block any other dusted people to approach Wanda or the entrance.

“Who the fuck is that Strange?” another man demands as Wanda shifts, the tendrils spreading out to start encompassing the rest of the group. She leaves Bucky and Sam at the entrance, adding people that Darcy isn’t even sure how they fit. She recognizes T’Challa, but how did such a slip of a teenager end up in their midst? And is that a tree?

“This is Darcy Lewis, Quill,” Strange says mildly, staring out at the crowd that is becoming more agitated as moments pass by.

“What do they want?” she asks. “Why were all those people swarming me?”

“They think you will save them,” Strange says. “You are the first different thing we’ve had in a long time. Granted, we’re not sure how much time has passed, if any.”

“What? I can’t save anyone,” Darcy squawks, looking down at her illuminated body in confusion. “Where is here anyway? What did I do to be different?”

Dr. Strange hums slightly, looking around. He grabs her elbow and steers her as far from the others as he can, which Darcy allows with a frown on her face.

"There's a problem," Strange mentions under his breath.

"You don’t say,” Darcy sarcastically comments, looking up at the tall man, flummoxed at his proximity. "Am I supposed to be a part of this problem solving or something?"

"You are our only connection to the real world, or whatever you'd like to consider it," he replies with a frown. "People here are disappearing."

"Disappearing? To where? Which, by the by, you haven’t explained where here is yet," Darcy grumbles, shaking his hand off her arm.

"If I had to make an approximation, we are probably trapped someplace with a combination of all the stones magics. Because the only way to quickly erase half of the universe of its people is to potentially format them in a queue."

"What? Are you saying we're in the fucking recycling bin of the universe?" Darcy says flatly. “Of the ‘are you sure you want to delete’ variety?”

"Of a sort, yes."

"Fuck."

"Then you understand my concern," Strange continues, eyeing her thoughtfully. "While I know this seems dire, I saw with the Time Stone 14 million versions of the future. Us being in this realm brought the path to survival down to 3 million. Your actual presence continues to shave down even more. So we are all gathered here, waiting for the moment where we can bring our help to the fight... do you know how it goes in the real world?"

"Thor and Steve went looking for Thanos. They were hoping to find Tony on the way because we hadn’t heard from him since he left after your sorry ass," she states, tossing her hair back in annoyance. "If only we'd have some sort of a hint of the other stone in the same fucking city as-"

"Yes, I understand your sentiments, you being so perfectly clear before. Stark with his ward and I encountered these other eclectic characters on Titan, their task in looking for a woman named Gamora, Thanos’ adopted daughter. She was doubtlessly sacrificed for the Soul Stone by Thanos, as he had it when we encountered him. Our mission to protect the Time Stone obviously failed. So Stark was left alone on Titan with Nebula, Thanos’ other adopted daughter. However, Tony is alive. I can't speak for his mental state, but I will venture it's tenuous at best," Strange mutters, glancing at the teenager. "Spider boy over there is a protege of sorts, and the futures I saw where Stark had to watch were always darker...'

Darcy feels her brow furrow in concern. Eyeing the teenager, she squints at him.

"Hey, kid, c'mere," she yells over at him. He blinks, pointing at himself as if not sure she's speaking to him and scurries over at her nod.

"Uh, hi. I'm Peter Parker?" he says in confusion, staring at her form that is still pulsing in the strange light.

"Where are you from, Pete?" Darcy asks with eyes narrowed. She is pretty sure she knows the answer to the question and is already feeling angry.

"Queens," he answers dutifully. Darcy swears under her breath and turns back to Strange.

"You let him see Queens here get dusted? Are you out of your mind? You saw how many futures and this was the best option?" she hisses up at him.

"To be fair, it's a randomized-" Strange begins and Darcy whacks his arm.

"No! Who here was with Stark on Titan?" she yells, addressing the whole group. A handful of hands go up, and she begins counting.

"Five. Five of you, leaving Tony with one. Purple fucker really _can't math!_ " Darcy is so furious, a hand crawls up to her hairline and she begins to tug in frustration. "The asshole's little demon dogs ripped apart easily a third of the Wakandan forces and then dusted half of them! The Asgardians were torn apart by another family squabble, just to fly straight into Thanos who murdered half of them, and then dusted half of the rest! Balance my ass, he’s throwing everything out of whack by destroying _everyone!_ ”

Darcy isn't paying attention, but her body's glow is increasing and she's illuminating the area in a righteous fury. Her thoughts turn towards herself and she can feel to her bones it isn’t fair.

“I’m still having seizures and I don’t know why the fuck they aren’t getting better or why they’re even happening! I’m so fucking broken, shifting through space without any understanding of how I’m doing it! I’m collapsing out of the blue and then the next throwing out a shield from my mark! _With all the tomfuckery that’s been happening, I should be dead!_ ”

Jane steps over and touches her arm.

"Darcy," she says in a soft voice. Darcy wipes at her face, the wetness there surprising her.

"I’m sorry," she whispers, calming back down. The group of friends she knows - Bucky, Sam, T’Challa and Wanda - all look at her with varying levels of concern. Strange has his thoughtful face on once again and Peter is visibly uncomfortable with wide eyes. The other mishmash of characters looks unimpressed, except for one who steps forward. She’s a woman from the group that is unknown to Darcy, pale green skin and antennae a bit daunting but Darcy somehow trusts her by sight.

"I can help," she says in a tiny voice.

Strange is wearing a look on his face as if he's not sure how the interaction will go and Darcy glares at him. "Stop looking at me like I'm a multiple choice question."

He hums again and turns on his heel to walk away from her. The woman offers her hand out.

"I'm Mantis. I help with emotions," she says simply and Darcy nods.

"Well, buckle up, my emotions are fucked right now. I've been falling into ‘mild’ comas, attacked by a guy who I thought was at the least a friendly acquaintance, drifted through realms, and just generally have no idea what the fuck is going on. I should have been dusted with the rest of you," Darcy mutters, a sort of numbness overtaking her. Mantis takes her hand.

The moment is electric. A soft vibration along her arm until it hits her spine and radiates up and down her back. The pierce into her mind is like a needle stabbing into a thick goo, fortunately without pain. She finds herself leaning into Mantis and Jane squawks as she helps catch Darcy's form from collapsing with Mantis who is completely enthralled.

"Oh... oh, there's so much love here," Mantis whispers, looking awed. "Pure."

"Wassat?" Darcy mutters, letting Jane arrange her on the ground next to Mantis without thought. A vibration of a sort shuffles through her mind as if her memories and concerns were all open for Mantis to peruse through at her leisure. Mantis refrains, though, and begins to gather the bundles of emotions and thoughts and straightens them like a stack of errant papers.

Darcy feels things click inside of her head, pushing her back a bit from a hysterical edge. Mantis frowns and Darcy feels her poke at a particular spot in her head.

"What's this?" she asks.

"I don't know," Darcy replies, unsure what she's speaking of.

"Wanda," Mantis whispers, shaking her head, before calling out louder. "Quill!"

The man jogs over, frowning at Darcy. "Y'know, you don't have to do this for everyone here, Mantis. I'm sure Princess Leia can handle things."

"Fuck off," Darcy grumbles without bite, too distracted for a proper retort, unnerved by the weird feeling in her head. Quill snorts in distrust.

"I need you and Drax to work with the others and Strange to keep people away. I'm going to need Wanda, and she can't keep the shield up if she's doing this as well," Mantis says plainly. "She will recognize this."

Quill grumbles under his breath as he walks away to prod another man who Darcy assumes is Drax. The tree person follows them as they speak with Strange who shakes his head. Wanda seems to overhear since she starts to shift her position over to Darcy and Mantis, keeping the shield up around everyone.

“Darcy, I had hoped to not see you here. But you are not really here, are you?” Wanda tilts her head, looking pained by splitting her attention.

“I have no idea, Wanda. I’m jammed on all frequencies right now,” Darcy replies.

“You have to drop the shield, Wanda. It will hurt us,” Mantis instructs, and Wanda looks around nervously.

“These people aren’t friendly. They will swarm and hurt her,” Wanda disagrees. “There are too many for our group to handle.”

“She has something,” Mantis insists. “It’s important, Wanda.”

Wanda sighs, glancing around a moment. Darcy notices Jane is cringing away from the witch as best she can without being too obvious and feels a wave of sympathy. Mantis’ work into her inner turmoil is helping smooth Darcy’s rough emotional edges. This strange thing in her head, which must be the key that the Other lady kept telling her about, is so out of place, like a perfectly trimmed bonsai tree in a cracked desert. It is so deliberate a thing that Darcy feels clunky and out of place for it being inside her mind.

Wanda gives a motion to Strange, who seems to have been waiting for it, and puts her arms down. The red swirls around their group dissipate and Wanda puts her wrists in Darcy’s hands so she can still manipulate while connected. 

Darcy straightens, feeling the flutter of Wanda entering into the connection with slight vertigo. Wanda’s presence is so much more vivid than Mantis like she’s walking around and splashing red wine on all the walls. It takes Darcy a moment to adjust, realizing it’s only temporary, and Wanda finds the spot quickly and frowns.

“How did you get that?” she murmurs.

Their world narrows down to the four of them, Jane holding onto Darcy's arm with a quiet support that Darcy can feel like a solid ground. Mantis must have added her in without Darcy noticing, but all three of them are here, in their different ways, supporting, exploring, fixing. Wanda grabs at the strange object and cries out.

Darcy can hear the concerned calls of the men, an echo outside of her senses, as Wanda struggles to hold the item. Glancing through her lowered lashes, she sees slices tear through Wanda’s hands in front of her as she takes it in the mind space and plies it into a different shape and presses it into a place inside Darcy’s mind.

Darcy screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a terrifying point of no return. This scene had so many iterations, so much info and then too much info and then more info added in... oof, the amount of fiddling on it.
> 
> Thank you so much for the support, I appreciate all of you!!


	11. Chapter 11

_Asgardians have arrived. Count around 200. -Nat_

Steve sends Thor a wary glance from the device with Natasha’s update. He offers it to Thor reluctantly, which causes the Asgardian to press his lips together in a grim expression as he reads it. Steve knows the number is lower than they had anticipated, which can only mean half of them are gone as well. The future of the Asgardian people is looking bleak and Steve can’t fault Thor’s soberness

“So where now?” Steve asks as Thor begins to stalk away from the _Benetar_ towards their landing spot. Steve rubs his wrist thoughtlessly as it twinges with a mild pain. Rocket looks a bit more contained as he’s collected his things from the ship, gripping his rifle with one paw as the other slings a pack on his shoulder. Thor lifts Stormbreaker over his shoulder.

“There are no other answers to beget here. What would you suggest, Sweet Rabbit?” Thor asks Rocket. “The Nine Realms were more than enough space for my long-living people, beyond that is a mystery.”

Rocket seems to consider for a moment before pulling his star chart pad out of his bag once again.

“Well, there are a handful of outposts from here to peaceful space. Downside, this planet is nestled in prime Thanos territory, so I doubt we’d find much information on his whereabouts if folks around here are loyal to the purple jackass,” Rocket mutters, swiping through screens in quick succession as he dismisses locations. “Ah.”

“What is it, Rocket?” Steve asks, seeing how the creature pauses in hesitation.

“Nova Corps still has a presence in the galaxy. Its headquarters is on Xandar, which you said was destroyed, Thor? How destroyed is destroyed?” Rocket asks.

“I do not know. He spoke of the destiny with death for all of us more than the specifics of his cruelty.”

“Well, there are still other planets and outposts scattered around the system. Krylor is right next door to Xandar and I might know a guy. He was involved with our exploits with the Power Stone, even got a promotion for it,” Rocket explains. “If we head to Krylor, he might know more about what happened after Thanos left.”

“Is there any information to be gleaned from the fallen Xandar?” Thor asks. Rocket shrugs.

“Beats me. But if anyone knows anything, it’ll be the Krylorians. Their planet is right next door and they’ll have interest if Xandar is gone. I don’t know if my guy is still around, but there’s plenty of bars there if we fail to find him. Someone is bound to have some info.”

Rocket shows Thor the star chart showing an active planet with ships departing and arriving on a schedule. Thor glances at Steve who nods.

“Then I will trust your judgment, Rocket,” Thor says while patting Rocket on the shoulder. Giving a glance to Steve to prepare them for the journey, he opens the Bifrost and they’re off.

* * *

A soft whooshing sound interrupts Natasha’s exclamation at Bruce’s text. The ship that glides into view to land on the platform of the Avengers Tower is entirely new to Clint. It’s round with a sleek design and paint job of red and gold that screams opulence. Its smooth landing taunts the other ship that’s haphazardly crashed to a stop in the middle of the room.

They watch as the hatch pops open from the side and Bruce appears. Another woman is working with him to presumably keep a person laying on a stretcher next to them alive. A breathing apparatus is attached to the injured form that the nursing woman hand pumps, trying to keep a consistent rhythm.

“What are you all doing standing there, I need my lab _now_!” Bruce’s voice belies a hysterical edge that is so rarely heard from him. Tony rushes forward, followed closely by Natasha. Clint stays back with Pepper, setting himself between her and the alien female he’s uncertain of. The stranger’s eyes narrow and he can tell she knows exactly what he’s doing. She seems unimpressed which doesn’t bother Clint in the slightest. 

Tony grabs at one end of the handles as Bruce and the other woman climbs out. Natasha takes the opposite end as Bruce keeps checking the woman’s vitals - Darcy Lewis, Clint confirms with a squint, looking older and more battle worn than he remembers - as they rush off the platform into the opened doorway of the room. Another woman, presumably the pilot, hops down from the ship, following from the platform at a slower pace with a grim expression.

“Give me something, Bruce, what’s wrong with her?” Tony’s clipped voice confuses Clint. The voice is too personal, his already broken visage somehow looking even more stricken than before. Natasha motions with her head for Clint to come closer.

“Take over, do not let her out of your sight,” she says quickly when he approaches. Grabbing the handles from her, Clint realizes he’s missing critical information as he finds himself wedged into an elevator next to Pepper, watching Bruce and the nurse as they try to work around Tony. The last thing Clint sees in the room before doors close is Natasha having a three way standoff with the blue-skinned alien and Bruce’s companion.

_Eh, she’ll be fine._

“Subira, when was the last injection?” Bruce mutters and the nurse scrambles for a syringe from her white jacket pocket.

“Long enough ago,” she replies, handing him the syringe that he promptly administers. 

“Bruce...” Tony begins again but is interrupted.

“I wasn’t there, Tony. Hulk was. She collapsed mid-sentence, but Subira here was able to stabilize her,” Bruce nods to the nurse next to him who gives a tight sort of smile. “Not too long after, the room had some sort of electrical malfunction.”

“Electrical malfunction?” Tony asks sharply. “What does that mean?”

“Everything exploded. All the electrical components fried, so our readings stopped. Hulk understandably freaked out, thinking she’d died, and finally gave me back the wheel so to speak. Thank god he did, she completely flatlined, not brain activity, heart rate, nothing. She should be dead,” Bruce explains quickly, continuing his triage on Darcy’s form. Pepper sends an alarmed look at Tony. 

Tony’s grip on the handle of the stretcher tightens, which surprises Clint. 

_Why is he so concerned?_

“Fortunately Valkyrie mentioned having parked the Commodore on the ship they brought the refugees on, so we were able to get here even faster than the quinjet. I need Dr. Cho if she’s still around, and my equipment. They did extensive tests in Wakanda, but they had to have missed something,” Bruce continues as the doors open. “She’s been crashing too hard for them not to have missed something.”

Pepper stays in the elevator, looking worried as they coordinate out of it.

“I can’t watch. I’ll go see what I can find about Dr. Cho-” she says as the doors close on her. Clint can’t blame her, not particularly wanting to witness this either, but Natasha rarely gave such specific instructions without a reason.

They file into the familiar glassed laboratory, room noticeably deserted as they bustle over to one of Bruce’s tables, setting the stretcher with Darcy down. Bruce immediately begins to break into drawers, looking for things.

“She wasn’t kidding,” he mutters to himself, which makes Tony turn. Clint steps away to give them space to work around the ill woman.

“What’s that, doc?” Tony asks.

“Darcy said you hadn’t touched this place,” Bruce huffs as he grabs a handful of electrical components that he begins to attach to Darcy’s head. Subira is checking Darcy’s right wrist, shaking her head.

“Dr. Banner-” 

“I know, I know!” Bruce mutters to himself as he swings his hand to activate the holographic interface. Prodding a couple of spots, he sighs as he begins to get more readings, all of them relatively low.

Tony paces next to the table out of the way, eyes darting every direction in agitation. Clint can understand the feeling, that feeling like he’s about to crawl out of his skin since Laura and his sons disappeared, but he can’t connect why Tony would be acting this way.

A few minutes pass as Bruce sets everything up to his liking, pulling out equipment to attach to her intubation tube so the nurse can move freely. Sticking pads on Darcy’s forehead and different pulse points, he sighs.

“There. She’s here. Barely, but all of the equipment fried in Norway and I knew I had the stuff here,” Bruce finishes his adjustments on the monitors and walks over to a chair to collapse into, ruffling his hair in an anxious movement.

“What the hell happened to her?” Tony demands in a quiet, dangerous voice as he pauses his pacing.

Bruce squints at him in disbelief.

“You don’t know? I thought you went to break her out,” is his comment. Clint frowns at the suspiciously mild tone.

Tony begins to open his mouth before noticing the nurse with a frown.

“Hey, nurse, can you go? Just.. she’s fine, now, right? Go get on the elevator. FRIDAY will direct you to the largest stash of whiskey. I think everyone needs a drink right now, yeah?” he waves his hand at her, shooing her back towards the elevator. 

The nurse, who even Clint caught the name of ‘Subira’, glances at Bruce. He nods. She looks like she wants to protest but heads out of the room anyways, into another elevator. Clint makes himself comfortable, leaning against a counter, realizing the two of them aren’t paying him any attention.

“Of course I know, Bruce, you think I couldn’t find out exactly what they did to her? But she told me she was _fine_. That she had a handle on it. That she was going to stay in Wakanda and they could help, far away from... she was going to deal with it herself,” Tony ends on a quiet note, almost castigating himself.

“‘Fine’. Jesus, Tony, she’s been having sporadic seizures for weeks. In the past few days alone she’s had a handful of episodes-” Bruce cuts off, tilting his head as if hearing a strange noise, eyes darting around in thought.

“What? What is it?” Tony demands again, glancing at Darcy in concern. Her readings seem to be the same.

Bruce shakes his head, obviously dismissing his thought.

“Whatever the fuck Ross did to her, it’s going to have lasting effects. Possibly her whole life. Why the hell would you bring him into everything?” he asks in a steely voice.

“God, not you too. We needed to band together, not be a ragtag group with no jurisdiction in these places we had no business to be! The Accords gave us legitimacy!” Tony declares, throwing up his hands. “We’re the _good guys_ , we shouldn’t be vilified for trying to keep the planet safe!”

Clint eyes Darcy, frowning as he notices her left wrist, covered in a long sleeve, looking a bit unusual from his angle.

“So what was his plan for Hulk, then, Tony? Because I don’t think you seem to remember what sort of _plans_ he had for Hulk! Even Betty...” Bruce breaks off, looking pained as he rubs his side. “Even his daughter didn’t think what he wanted to do was right.”

Clint steps closer to Darcy laying on the table. Her hair is shorter than he remembers, wilder almost, and there’s a myriad of faded bursts of scarring on her skin. It’s hard to reconcile her quiet body with the sassy college student he’d seen from afar. As he turns her left wrist over, his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do we even know what happened to Ross? Is he still around? FRIDAY?” Tony turns, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Hey...” Clint tries to interject but the female voice speaks over him.

“Secretary Ross is alive. He has been in contact with Ms. Potts multiple times about your whereabouts, sir, and wishes-” 

“Yeah, yeah, you know the drill. Man, he must love my hold music,” Tony mutters.

“Hey, guys?” Clint barks out a little louder. “This isn’t right, is it?”

Bruce and Tony both jump as if remembering Clint is in the room and walk around the table to see what he is talking about. Clint pulls the sleeve Darcy’s arm up, mark on her wrist faintly glowing, illumination shooting out from an oval shape in electrical patterns. There’s a small star lit as well, residing snugly in the middle of the oval.

“FRIDAY?” Bruce asks. “If she’s not busy, can you ask Natasha to come down?”

“Of course,” FRIDAY responds.

“What is it, Bruce?” Tony asks, looking mystified.

“That’s her mark, right?” Bruce asks.

“I mean, she had a timer, so wouldn’t it just be a zero since she met him?” Tony agrees reluctantly.

“You can see the zero, it’s just expanded. There’s nothing in her file about it being decorated, so I’d have to ask her when she wakes up to be sure, but it makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Clint asks curiously, feeling strangely left out.

“Her seizures. They’ve gotten progressively, _severely_ worse since Steve left.”

* * *

Bucky shoves someone away. Their group has closed ranks around Darcy’s soul, her illuminating the area like a beacon, trying to keep her from being overwhelmed like when she first appeared. He’s about to throw a punch, done giving warnings when Darcy’s scream pierces him. It echoes further than he expects, the shrill sound of pain not hitting his ears but his mind. 

Flinching, he gives a glance over his shoulder to look at her. The rest of the women surround her, Jane attached to her left arm as Mantis is curled around her right. Wanda is manipulating her hands in front of Darcy, Darcy’s own hands on Wanda’s wrists, all of the women’s eyes closed as Darcy radiates with a silvery glow. Having been around Jane and Darcy for a few weeks, he knows that if Jane is on board with whatever they are doing, it is as safe as it can be. And Wanda wouldn’t purposefully hurt Darcy. 

Then another wilder howl cuts through the air behind the crowd that makes Bucky tense.

The crowd begins to disperse, panic pushing them away from their group in a much more efficient fashion that confuses Bucky until he sees what is barrelling towards them.

_What the fuck is that?_

“Strange!” he yells out. “Sam!”

Sam turns away from a man yelling at him mid-sentence to assess the threat, frowning. It’s a creature looking eerily human with its bent over posture, despite running straight at them on four legs in a loping gait. Shadows spill off of its form and it leaps into the air. It lands on a woman who is trying to avoid it altogether, and it stabs her through the shoulder before jumping off, it’s momentum completely unimpeded. The woman wails for a moment before going completely silent and still.

“Hope your reflexes are sharp. You don’t want them to pierce you,” Strange mutters next to Bucky, appearing out of nowhere. Bucky sends him an annoyed glance for stating the obvious before turning towards another cry that rings through the air, where they see another one heading in their direction. 

“Barnes!” Sam yells as the creature approaches, looking prepared to jump straight at the smaller unaware group collected around Darcy. Bucky abandons Dr. Strange to meet the creature before then, hoping to keep it far enough away so the women can finish the whatever that they are so intent on doing. 

The creature jumps into the air, sailing right over Bucky, but Sam’s winged form jumps up in the air to slam into its neck with his knee and they drop to the ground. The shadow being twists with a snarl, trying to bite at Sam’s leg. Bucky jumps on top of the pair, restraining the hands of the creature that immediately begins to claw at the leg pinning him down. T’Challa appears next to Bucky, capturing the feet of the creature. It snarls again at its restricted state.

“What is this thing?” Sam huffs out, exertion showing on his face as he struggles to keep the faceless head down. There’s no way to get it to stop, its energy seemingly endless, and Bucky grunts.

“Strange, what do we do with it now?” Bucky yells, glancing around. He sees Drax and Quill twisted with the other monster, Parker rubbing at his throat and coughing as if theirs had just choked him. Groot reaches out to twine wood like vines around its appendages, confining it. Drax and Quill shuffle away from it as quickly as possible, panting with exertion.

Strange comes over to wrap magical binds around the areas that Bucky and T’Challa hold. Another strand wraps around its face, binding its teeth from gnashing. Bucky rolls away, catching his breath that he’s not sure he even needs before sitting up. Looking around, he notes that the crowd has completely dispersed away in terror, leaving a handful of bodies stricken down by the creatures that litter the landscape. 

A third form dashes out of nowhere between the two groups, smaller than the other monsters, barreling into Wanda. She cries out in surprise, apparently unaware of the outside danger with how focused she was on Darcy, and the creature spins around.

“No!” Bucky is barely aware of the word bursting out of his lips.

It takes one small leap at Darcy, whose eyes have just opened. She shrieks, bringing up her hands in defense just in time to grab its forehead and neck. The light of her hands spark against the shadows that seep through her fingers and Dr. Strange throws out a whip to the foot of the creature, dragging it back away from her.

“ _Go_ , Darcy! Find Wong!” Strange yells and Bucky catches the fearful but determined expression on Darcy’s face before she fades sideways into nothingness. The landscape looks dull without her illuminating light.

The shadow monsters immediately stop thrashing, going limp in their binds. The third, with merely a leg tethering it from leaving, curls up in a small ball and whines.

“What the fuck are they, Strange?” Quill pants as he finally scrambles to his feet. Everyone takes a moment to find their footing, Jane and Mantis shuffling back from the monster. Wanda is already on her feet, staring at her hands a moment before shaking her head.

Strange ignores him.

“Ms. Maximoff...” he begins in a quiet voice.

Wanda frowns as if uncertain what to say.

“She did what she could,” Mantis states in a soft voice.

“I do not understand how she got it, Strange,” Wanda mutters, holding up her hands that bear cuts of darkness. The lines are slowly dissipating as Wanda focuses, but Strange purses his lips in thought.

“How she got what?” Jane asks, confused. Wanda sends Strange an indecipherable glance.

“That... gift was not there before. She’s been different since her accident, but this was almost...” Wanda struggles to find the word. “Placed? But before, hidden, with the intention to help with the fallout of her new abilities. Almost like it wasn’t calibrated quite right, so with my work, she will be able to do far more. As proven since she left without hesitation, without incident.”

“I wouldn’t call these guys ‘without incident’,” Quill mutters as he nudges one with his toe.

“I am Groot,” Groot adds in.

“Where did they come from?” T’Challa repeats Quill’s question from a different approach, motioning to the monster.

Strange uses a swirl of magic to roll the creature over, which is pliant and quiet besides its small whimpers. It’s holding its shadowy claws where ears would be, rocking slightly.

Jane gasps, looking horrified.

There’s an imprint of a hand on its face where the shadows are wiped away. Underneath the shadow in the face of a child. Bucky squints closer and feels horror mount in his chest, knowing Jane recognizes the child as much as he does.

_M’Toka._

“Some souls aren’t leaking, they’re corrupting,” Strange mutters to himself. “Children would be far more susceptible, having a more malleable sense of self. Darcy’s appearance was a klaxon, desperation and terror driving them to her without possibly knowing why.”

Dr. Strange casts a sympathetic glance down at the pitiable boy encased in shadow. “And they want hope just as much as any of us do.”

“But why attack her?” Jane demands, looking confused. “If she was able to wipe away the corruption-”

“They’re young. They don’t know how they came to be, what they are, or how to stop it. Presumably, they’re in pain, if these whimpers are anything to gauge. Everything is confused for them, so I imagine they attacked .”

Jane steps over to M’Toka and peers down at his face. He seems unfortunately incapable of speech with the shadows twisting over his mouth.

“Can we reason with them?”

“As with any other child, it’s possible,” Strange comments. “But as we go along, more will appear. There will be no guarantee it would continue to be successful.”

“Is Darcy going to come back?” Bucky interjects. “Are they going to overrun us if she does?”

Strange gives him a sharp look, visibly annoyed at the question. Bucky remains unperturbed, everyone eyeing the wizard intently.

“Perhaps.”

“Whoa, no. I’m done with your cryptic remarks, asshole. We’ve gone down this road with you before,” Quill bursts out, stepping forward. “Are we going to be overrun and turned into monsters if she comes back?”

Strange huffs out in exasperation. “I have no way to know that. Just as I had no idea of who exactly would be here with me. I had a general idea, but there are many paths that follow similar roads. The _one chance_ I saw before has already been deviated from.”

Yells burst out from each direction but Strange holds up his hand.

“You think time is so linear and straight, but even if it took me 14 million attempts for me to find one does not mean there are no others. It just means I had millions more possibilities to explore since our path is fortunately not set in stone,” Strange shakes his head with a humorless chuckle before looking solemnly at the group. 

“We have to trust there are more forces at play then we can see. Trust that we will prevail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, I had to do massive work on this and the next bit, realizing how it was set up was a bit jarring, so there's been a lot of shuffling going on. Oh well!
> 
> I hope to put up another chapter on Monday!


	12. Chapter 12

The architecture of Krylor reminds Steve of the future that Howard Stark used to rave excitedly about back during the war. Everything is streamlined and smooth with futuristic angles that look difficult to replicate without industrialization. It seems a welcoming place except for the half dozen guards pointing guns at them after their sudden arrival.

“Hey, cool it,” Rocket says with his hands up, rifle strapped to his back. “We’re not here to cause trouble. Actually trying to save the galaxy again.”

The pink-skinned commander, standing behind the half dozen guards pointing their various types of weapons at the trio, glances at her pad and scoffs.

“Rocket. Known Guardian of the Galaxy. You have clearance to be here, but your friends do not-” the commander frowns. “Another Terran, Rocket? And an... Asgardian?”

“What of it, good lady?” Thor asks with a frown, looking around with his hands up peaceably. She sends him an unimpressed look.

“The Asgardians have been extinct for millennia,” is the sharp reply.

Thor’s countenance darkens from being reminded of his people’s potential plight.

“Are you vying for these men, Rocket?” the commander asks.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust them. We’re not here to cause trouble, just looking for some information. Is Denarian Dey still active?” Rocket asks, scratching his ear with a paw nonchalantly. 

The commander gives a small motion and the guards lower their weapons. Steve and Thor lower their arms.

“He is. He will want to speak with you. The fall of Xandar has hit our people hard,” she says as she motions for her men to stand down and begins to lead them through the building. “I am only allowing you your weapons due to the situation we find ourselves in.”

“Which is?” Rocket asks.

“Not long after the doom Thanos brought upon Xandar, a sizable amount of the population disappeared here. You will have to ask Denarian Dey for more information as it’s under strict regulation,” is the commander's reply. Rocket nods.

Confirmation of the commander's words of the demise Thanos has brought to the entire galaxy is all around them as they travel across a vast courtyard that seems too large for the number of people traveling on it. After a short walk into a new building, they find themselves in front of a door that the woman opens and motions them into.

The man inside is not at all what Steve is expecting. His round face and earnest gaze are not usually the hallmarks of a grand military leader. The man’s countenance stays upright until the commander leaves, shutting the door behind her. 

“Rocket. I knew it was only a matter of time before you Guardians would come to explain what in the cosmos has happened,” he says, stature relaxing as he looks overwhelmed.

“Thanos happened, Dey. We’re looking for him as he booked it out of the system after causing this destruction,” Rocket explains, waving a paw around. “You lost half of your people here, right?”

“All our contacts have. There’s been rioting everywhere, but we simply don’t have the manpower to handle it,” Dey replies, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Supplies are scarce because so many pilots are gone, which is causing interruptions. The moment we get a replacement pilot, they check the shipments and find the entire warehouses of food are disintegrating into nothing. Farmers have brought to our attention that all their crops are failing as if roots won’t take hold and wither away. Materials are becoming scarce as their quality is suffering suddenly. Everything has gone to the absolute dogs since Thanos left.”

Dey pauses, shaking his head. “Sorry, that’s not your problem. These gentlemen aren’t your usual cohorts, where are the others?”

Rocket opens his mouth to reply before shutting his mouth.

“They’re gone, the same way everyone else is,” Steve interjects, stepping up to hold out his hand. “Steve Rogers from Earth. This is King Thor of Asgard. We’re tracking Thanos to repair the damage he’s caused.”

Dey blinks, accepting the handshake with uncertainty, glancing at Thor. “I thought the Asgardians were extinct.”

“We held the Nine Realms. There was no need to venture further,” Thor states shortly. He looks troubled and Steve wishes the text had brought better news. Another wave of pain pulls on Steve's mark and he rubs his wrist.

Dey looks completely flummoxed by Thor’s statement.

“Has there been any chatter about Thanos’ movement, Dey?” Rocket finally asks impatiently. 

“Er... right. Thanos’ exit has caused mass speculation, as it’s unusual for him to leave a system without bringing his wrath upon all the planets there. Xandar was ruined in his usual manner, but Krylor remained with nary an orbit. So it’s hard to shift the bogus info out from the real... but everyone seems to be convinced he’d head to the Zen-Whoberus system if the number of jumps that ships are making to that quadrant is any indication. Know any reason why he’d be heading there?” Dey asks, sending a critical glance to Rocket.

“Gamora didn’t talk of her time with Thanos,” Rocket states plainly, looking annoyed. “And she’s not around to ask.”

“What are you planning to do?” Dey continues, glancing at each of them in turn. “You have the brawn, but Thanos has always been crafty. Not to mention a Thanos with two Infinity Stones.”

“Dey... he has all the stones. How did you think half the universe disappeared?” Rocket pinches the top of his nose by his eyes. “We’re going to rip that fucking gauntlet off his arm and set everything back the way it was.”

Dey looks a strange mixture of alarmed at Thanos being armed with all the stones and relieved that he doesn’t have to deal with it himself. “Really? You’re going to fix it?”

Steve can see that this man, while comfortable in the role he has, is utterly unprepared for the prospect of leading an entire planetary force. Steve idly wonders what he did that put him in such a high position, but shakes his head at himself. He’s met far more useless superior officers while in the military and Dey seems self-aware enough to know his limitations.

“I mean, we have twice before. What’s one more?” Rocket says. Dey nods, looking thoughtful.

A stab of pain hits Steve’s wrist and he cries out in surprise. The group jumps, swinging to look at him as he begins to pull off his glove from his wrist.

His mark is _glowing_.

Thor eyes him warily before clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder, grounding Steve. The mark begins to dig into his skin as if being pulled from the other side which prompts Steve to grit his teeth.

“We need to return,” Thor asserts quietly. “Rocket?”

Rocket sighs, looking annoyed. “There isn't nothing left to explore there-”

“We are returning,” Thor repeats with finality as he begins to steer Steve out of the room. “If Lady Darcy has been attacked, that is reason enough. And it will be good for me to see my people, even momentarily.”

“Fine,” Rocket grumbles. “We’ll head back to Terra, make sure the sensible chick is okay, then head out to Zen-Whoberus and kick some ass. Dey, till next time.”

Rocket gives a cheeky salute as they leave.

* * *

Bucky isn’t sure what to think about M’Toka being encased in shadow. The boy seemed so frightened when they’d first arrived and he can still hear the scream from the child’s mother for her son. He hopes the mother doesn’t appear in front of him again as he hasn’t seen the woman since she accosted him a while ago. Bucky knows he doesn’t have the words to explain where her son went.

Strange has corralled the rest of the shadow beings that were trying to attack Darcy in a small group. They sit there completely passive - obviously, there’s nowhere to go - but the others in the group look on them with suspicion. Bucky can’t tell how old the other two creatures are but by their height alone, he’d assume early adolescence. 

Next to them are the handful of people who had been pierced during the monsters attack. They’re unresponsive, shadows slowly growing over their wounds and Bucky thinks it’s only a matter of time before they’re just as encased as the other beings.

“Barnes,” T’Challa steps up next to Bucky, glancing around at the horizon. Bucky nods in acknowledgment. He never quite got the hang of how to speak to T’Challa, the man who’s put far too many resources in helping Bucky with his conditioning. Steve usually worked between them in their interactions. 

Bucky stares at the shadow creatures, frown fixed on his face.

_They’re just children. They’ve only lived a dozen years in peace before their world is shattered and they’re cursed like this?_

T’Challa slaps his shoulder with his palm.

“Let’s come away, my friend.”

Bucky allows himself to be led from the others, trying to put the creatures out of his mind.

“Tell me of your Match,” T’Challa states in that open way of his. “They are likely fearsome, are they not?”

Bucky blinks, not having taken a moment to consider his Match at all. His mark still pulses that comforting blue and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know who it is,” Bucky says, frown still marring his face. “I don’t think it really makes a difference, though. Who’d want a broken man like me?”

“We are all broken in, Barnes, simply by existing. Just some more than others. Which is why we must protect those who have not been broken quite as much as ourselves,” T’Challa refutes sympathetically. “And to help those who have been inflicted with pain. You have healed exponentially. Do not devalue yourself.”

Bucky sighs and finally acquiesces with a nod. The area is pretty bare of people, the bulk of population moving away from their group after the monsters appeared. People huddle together in small groups except for random stragglers who look utterly wretched with how alone they are.

“I will say I have wondered something for many months with your stay in Wakanda,” T’Challa begins, looking thoughtfully at Bucky. “With Steve’s team coming and going so often, you always had a visitor not long after they arrived.”

Bucky shrugs. “Steve’s a punk. It used to be me worrying about him and now he’s like a mother hen always checking up on me.”

T’Challa gives a small smile and nods in concession.

“It wasn’t usually him, though, was it?”

Bucky gives T’Challa a critical glance. The man is fishing for something and Bucky doesn’t want to rise to the bait.

“Right... Natasha visited me in his stead quite a few times. She told me she thought the goats were entertaining,” Bucky explains in a muttering voice. “Something about how stubborn they were in their play fights.”

“An apt observation, not that I would expect less from her,” the king agrees. “You and she had a lot to catch up on the years you were apart, did you not?”

Bucky pauses, considering. Natasha had always been relaxed in her interactions with him, something he was always grateful for. He knew they had a history, but it was buried deep past a veil of blood that he refrained from exploring. Her acceptance of him without any agenda, which even he knew was unusual for the spy, was refreshing in comparison to Steve’s gentle probing of his knowledge of the past.

He opens his mouth to begin to say something when a person steps up from seemingly nowhere to his companion, features covered by a large cloak over their body. A female hand reaches out to touch T’Challa and Bucky grabs the wrist, alarmed.

“Whoa, who are you?” Bucky demands. T’Challa sends him a glance as if saying _you’re not my bodyguard_ that Bucky ignores. He owes T’Challa far too much to let random strangers do anything untoward.

“There are two types of people here. Those who tell me _accurately_ their doings during the end, or those who I have to painlessly force the information from,” a female voice is exasperated. “Touch is faster and you both seem disinclined to confide. The military types never do.”

“What?” T’Challa asks suspiciously. 

Bucky can feel the glare the woman is giving him.

“I will give you three unfortunate seconds to _unhand me_ ,” she grits out. Bucky eyes T’Challa a moment before releasing her at T’Challa’s nod.

“Before you were brought here. What were you doing?”

“Helping up a friend up from the ground during a battle. What were _you_ doing, stranger?” T’Challa bites back. The woman ignores him and turns to Bucky.

“You’re clear, as you proved to me when you manhandled me. I don’t have time for twenty of your Terran questions,” she grumbles out.

“What could you possibly do with such information?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms.

The woman shakes her head and her hood slips a bit. Bucky can see the green skin of her chin and the red tips of her hair.

“Anything going to crash into you? Ship maybe?” she continues to T’Challa. “What were you doing on a battlefield?”

“Fighting the asshole who caused this,” Bucky answers for him as he squints at the woman. It’s not like any of the information is a secret, as there were too many of the Wakandan people in their area here who recognize their King. T’Challa had been successful so far to avoid those groups, which Bucky can understand. There is nothing he - or the other enhanced people - can do from their position, and spouting false hope seems cruel.

However, the woman swears under her breath. She offers a hand to T’Challa who considers her a moment before placing his own in hers.

Nothing happens.

“You’re clear, too. Thanks,” she says in a short annoyed way before adjusting her hood and moving along.

“What the blazin’...” Bucky begins, glancing at T’Challa in complete confusion. T’Challa responds with a nod as they both set off to follow her at a distance.

Keeping track of her is reasonably straightforward as her covered countenance is more conspicuous than not. She approaches groups without fear, sometimes speaking with people before touching their shoulder and shaking her head. Other times she bumps into people accidentally, which prompts arguments that she glides out of quickly. Bucky glances at T’Challa, still confused.

“What do you think she’s doing?” Bucky begins and T’Challa holds up his hand.

The cloaked woman is approaching a pair of females. One is a little girl no more than 6 years old with what appears to be her grandmother. The cloaked woman kneels, removing her hood for a moment to speak softly. Long locks flow out over her shoulders, the dark hair lightening to red and her voice is soft.

“I swear, I only need to know what you were doing. It is important,” is her earnest plea to the grandmother. Bucky thinks he can hear the tears caught in her throat. The grandmother looks hesitant but nods.

“Okay, deary. We were driving, weren’t we, Melly? From the grocers. Had to get home before the ice cream melted, right?” the grandmother smiles sadly down at the girl.

“Why is your skin green?” the girl asks plainly. The grandmother looks aghast.

“Mel! You know better than to ask such questions to a lady!” she scolds softly before turning towards the cloaked woman. “I apologize, deary, I swear her mother and I did bring her up with better-”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’ve not seen so many different people before, so it’s natural to ask. I’m not from your world, though. I’m sorry to be brief, but you were actively driving?” the woman looks up at the grandmother. The grandmother frowns as if understanding why the woman is so insistent.

“Deary-”

The woman reaches out and touches the grandmother’s shoulder. A small droplet of green remains on her, glowing faintly.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, patting the girl’s shoulder as well, the same droplet sticking to her. “You have a safer path now.”

She spins on her heel as she stands, pain on her face visible to Bucky and T’Challa as she walks away. Bucky walks over to intercept her.

“The hell are you doing?” he demands, standing in front of her. The woman blinks, sadness instantly shuttering away for a more bored look. 

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“You just did something to that pair over there,” Bucky continues, motioning to the grandmother who is hugging the girl with tears running down her face.

“I don’t have time for this,” is her response as she brushes past him. Bucky darts an arm out to grab her and she twists in a way he isn’t expecting. A punch to his ribs and a leg darting out under him causes him to fall to the ground. The woman disappears out of his sight as he’s suddenly becoming familiar with the wet-but-not-wet floor of this world.

_I know better than to let my guard down, but here we are._

“I’d say that was unexpected, but we both know that’s not true with how many capable women we are surrounded by,” T’Challa remarks.

“Thanks, T’Challa,” Bucky’s reply is muffled into the ground.

* * *

Arriving in Norway, there's a lot more fanfare that Steve expects but ignores as he begins pushing through the crowd of people who are desirous of seeing their King once again. As soon as Steve breaks free from the crowd, he's jumping up past the stairs into the makeshift office building that Darcy had been occupying. Swinging into her office with a tight grip on the doorjamb, he realizes she's not there.

"Darcy!" he bursts back out of the building and starts running to the medical bay that he had helped set up. "Darcy!"

Thor has managed to pull people aside, pushing through the crowd to speak to a large rock person that Steve doesn't think he could even imagine, but he's inside the medical bay before anyone can stop him.

The room is scorched. Anywhere there is an electrical outlet, screen, monitor, anything, is completely blackened and Steve feels his gut roil in fear. He's strangely reminded of when Darcy was ripped through the portal from relative safety, arriving far too late to protect her. The room stinks with violence.

Heading back outside, the rock person notices him and gives a little wave. Thor seems to be considering the alien with a thoughtful gaze.

"Hey man, I'm Korg. Darcy isn't here, Valkyrie and that Banner guy had to high tail it outta here since she had like, an episode or somethin'. Nobody really knows why, she just collapsed out here after some fancy Terrans showed up to bully her," the creature says and Steve frowns.

"High tail it? Where did they go?"

"They took the _Commodore_ , y'know, the party ship of the Grandmaster, to get her to some nice place where Banner could help her at. Valkyrie looked pretty grim about it all, said something about there being a conversation she couldn't hear before the medical wing exploded."

"Exploded?" Steve confirms, feeling his voice reach an unusually high pitch even for him, panic beginning to fuel his thoughts as the pain in his wrist is consistent. He can't decide if that's a good sign or not, but it's somewhat distracting.

"Yeah, sometime after she collapsed. Banner wasn't 'round for that, see, he was Hulk then, but that kind of startled Hulk and he left so Banner could help her, see?"

"Sure," Steve mutters, not really certain he does. "Then we need to go, Thor, we need to go _now_."

Thor considers Steve for a moment before nodding. "Where to, friend?"

"Banner kept saying he wanted to look over her with his equipment at the Tower. Unless he took her back to Wakanda?" Steve looks perplexed.

"I think he said something about new work?" Korg helpfully supplies, which settles it in Steve's mind.

"New York. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally back on Earth. Woohoo!
> 
> The upcoming chapter is straight up oof. Oof, I say. I'm going to try to post it on Thursday instead of Friday, cause Thanksgiving shenanigans. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate it! Happy pretend-early-Friday if you don't!

Steve’s pace is just as hurried as in Norway, not even pausing for the elevator after Thor touches their group down on the ruined outdoor platform on the Avengers Tower. He instantly is in the stairwell, jumping down multiple sets of staircases, muttering to himself when he has to jog up half a set of stairs when he overshoots in his agitation.

He somehow bangs the door against the wall as he rips it open, running into the central labs he’d visited only weeks prior when he had to ask Tony for help to find Darcy after her abduction. Across the floor he can see Bruce’s station, the transparent walls revealing Tony and Bruce speaking and Clint staring down at a table.

_Darcy._

She’s there, Steve can see her laying on it, and he begins running through the hallway to get to her as fast as he can. Finally, FRIDAY opens the sliding door to the room and he slides to a stop next to her.

“Darcy!”

“About time you showed up!” Tony barks at him, looking relieved that there’s someone to yell at that he assumes is directly responsible. Steve is shocked at seeing Tony, obviously not expecting to see the man but turns back to Darcy as her readings tremble.

“Steve, when did you arrive?” Bruce asks, confused. “I was just going to have Natasha text you to get back here, I think Darcy’s seizures have gotten worse since you were gone.”

Steve thrusts his left arm out over Darcy’s body to show Bruce. His mark is almost glaring in its intensity, and the others gape at it in confusion.

“I knew something was wrong because my mark is downright agonizing with pain. What happened to Darcy? There was an explosion in Norway?” Steve brings his hand up to her face, brushing her hair back, feeling a need to _touch her, make sure she’s okay._

The vitals displayed on the screen seem to increase a slight bit but remain mostly unchanged. Bruce frowns between the mark and the vitals.

“I’m not going to lie, I thought maybe she’d wake right back up in proximity to you,” Bruce mutters.

“She’s not a Disney princess, Bruce,” Tony grumbles, looking aggrieved as he rubs a hand down his face.

Darcy suddenly pierces the room with a scream, monitors spiking erratically. It makes them all startle, Steve grabbing at her hand, hating the feeling of being so useless. Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t _do_ more. If I administer anything more than I have, it’ll overload her body.”

“So we’re just supposed to wait?” Steve asks. Tony sends him a dark look.

“Maybe if you’d stop and think about how your actions affect people-” Tony begins but stops at the sight of Darcy’s mark brightening the room further. Her vitals steady and Bruce shakes his head again.

“Something else is happening, we just can’t see it. Can you feel your connection, Steve?” Bruce asks.

“Yes. My mark hurts like it’s never hurt before, but it’s still strong,” Steve nods.

The ding of the elevator announces the arrival of Natasha, bringing along Thor and another woman Steve’s never seen.

“She stable yet?” Natasha asks, sending Clint a specific glance after addressing Bruce.

“As much as she can be,” Bruce confirms.

“There was someone in that room,” the new woman states. Steve frowns.

“Someone in Norway, Valkyrie?” Thor asks, stepping closer to Darcy to glance down at her mark. His face turns grim. “She’s plane shifting.”

“Yes,” Valkyrie nods. “There was another in Norway, but I couldn’t see them to defend her.”

“Whoa, hold up, what the hell is plane shifting?” Tony interjects, holding up his hands in a T motion. 

“She’s traveling across the planes, realms, dimensions, whatever you Midgardians would like to call them. I do not know how she gathered this power, she had no such abilities when I saw her after the Convergence,” Thor says, looking troubled. Steve glances at Tony whose face is ashen.

“D’you think when she was pulled-” Steve begins and Tony scowls.

“You tell me! Foster disappeared with you guys with all her research, and I _destroyed_ whatever was left! She was the one working with theories on Bifrost, you tell me if her work could do that!”

Bruce rubs at his forehead in frustration.

“I’ve been looking it over and it’s a sound theory, but just because they managed to create the portal doesn’t mean it was done correctly or accurately. Honestly, it could have been a complete accident,” he mutters. “Can you find out where she is, Thor? Bring her back?”

Thor shakes his head.

“I have no such mystical training. Valkyrie here was a part of an elite force, which is how she is trained in recognizing astral disturbances. The only ones I know who could have ventured...” Thor trails off, looking sad as he pats Darcy’s head.

“Loki,” Clint interjects, looking disgusted. Thor nods as if understanding Clint's vehemence.

“Or Heimdall. Both are dead,” Thor states solemnly.

“There has to be someone,” Steve protests weakly. Another flare of brightness emits from Darcy’s mark, the pull on his own searing. However, she seems calmer than the previous moments.

“Well, Earth has wizards now, do you not? Why not call him?” Thor asks.

“Wizards?” Tony’s expression shutters. Steve takes this moment to look at Tony and realizes the man looks terrible. His clothes are ripped and he’s covered in blood and dirt - _no, that must be dust_ \- and Steve feels a stab of disappointment at himself for not even checking on how Tony’s mission went, too distracted by Darcy’s status.

“Aye, a Dr. Strange helped me find my father. He was very prompt in his work,” Thor states. 

Tony shakes his head. “Well, he’s become one with that red planet I was on not too long ago. So we’re a bit out of stock on wizards.”

* * *

Clint is sitting on the couch in his suite, pondering the reaction of the team to Darcy’s arrival. Lewis, the sassy college kid he’d seen from afar in New Mexico, had somehow landed in between all of the Avengers in the most peculiar way. Being Steve’s Match is one thing and Lewis obviously has a history with Thor, but the way Natasha, Bruce, and even _Tony_ were aware of her rings all the confusion bells in Clint’s head.

She wasn’t even a blip on SHIELDs radar when they had first encountered her.

_Why is she significant?_

Lila runs in with Cassie chasing after her. They’re laughing about something and Clint feels a bittersweet joy that even with the world in turmoil, Lila isn’t overwrought in fear or pain. His mind splits between his current conundrum and his diverting daughter.

_Does Lewis have powers of empathy or something? I mean, she tried talking her way around Coulson, but he didn’t have any of it. He went nicely on them, but he was still tough. You’d think she’d have used her powers then if she’d had any._

Lila’s laughing almost feels like a guilty pleasure. Clint knows she trusts that her dad is going to make everything better, like her mother and brothers are just on vacation or something. The Tower is probably the most fun she’s had in weeks, his family pretty much moored at the farm for years at this point due to Clint’s parole.

He feels a spike of guilt over how he’s changed his family’s lives, even if he had good intentions at the time. And how it was all for nothing with most of them gone.

_What are you doing here, Clint? Disappointing my kids._

The small conversation he’d had with Wanda years ago floats through his mind, making him stand up and begin to pace. Lila is giggling in a corner of the room with Cassie when Maggie alerts them through FRIDAY to call them to go eat. Clint nods at Lila’s questioning glance and she skips off with her friend.

He continues his circuit around the room when Natasha appears in the doorway. Clint is glad Lila can pretend that everything is okay, but worry builds in the back of his mind regardless. 

_What if I can’t fix this? What if Laura and Cooper and Nathaniel are all gone for good?_

“You’ll give Stark a run for his money if you keep that up,” Natasha says, an odd expression on her face.

“What?” Clint stops, eyes darting to her as he connects his anxiety with the concern of his daughter and family to Natasha’s statement. It was the tension of Stark endlessly pacing that had prompted Clint to leave the room earlier as Darcy was being so quietly arranged with her medical devices, Steve plastered to her side.

_No way._

“No fucking way,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in irritation. “No. The chances of that-”

“Rather high, aren’t they? But as far as I know, it’s true,” she replies with a slight shrug to her shoulder. Stepping the rest of the way into the room, she continues. “Ross might be calculating, but he wouldn’t purposefully mess with paternity results. Especially not if it concerned Stark. Darcy doesn’t believe it though. She denies it every time anyone brings it up.”

“Wait, she denies it? _Why?_ ” Clint asks, then a realization dawns. “Shit. She’s Stark’s daughter _and_ Steve’s Match? Fuck...”

Clint lets out a long whistle as he realizes just how splintered that particular facet of the team is.

“Fortunately, she seems to roll with it pretty well. There was a bit of a delay with her matching with Steve, but since that got resolved, we’ve all been residing quietly in Wakanda,” Natasha says, sighing. “Darcy’s file did not prepare me for who she is.”

He eyes her with a frown, not sure what she’s trying to convey. Natasha is pretty easy to read for Clint, and this fondness is uncharacteristically - purposefully even - bared for him to see.

“She’s earned her place, Clint,” she says suddenly, motioning for him to follow her with a nod of her head.

“Well, you don’t have to convince me. I watched her chew out Coulson over her freaking iPod like he’d grievously injured her for daring take it,” Clint follows her out of the room. “It’s just that I spent the past hour massively confused as to why you thought it was so direly important for me to stay with her. Then watch Tony freak out even further than he already has, Bruce not Hulk out in response to a stressful situation, and Steve show up like his ass was on fire. The only person who seems mildly okay with everything is Thor, who has an actual history with her. It didn’t make much sense.”

“I knew I could trust you to stay with her and I needed to vet the two newcomers. Ergo, you went with her. I thought a new pair of eyes on the situation would be helpful.”

“Not so helpful with her in a coma, Natasha,” he grumbles. “You sure you weren’t just avoiding Bruce?”

Natasha sends him a withering glance. “I’m not going to discuss that with you.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’re not going to tell me about how it went when he appeared after his two year disappearance? Were there tears?” Clint raises his eyebrows in a cajoling manner. Natasha makes a noise of annoyance.

“I thought at the time there was a _possibility_ , as my Match seemed happily married-” she begins.

“I'm not your Match! You admitted it yourself!” Clint interrupts.

“-and his seemed out of the picture as well,” Natasha finishes while glaring. “It was good to see he is relatively well, but I think we both know that avenue has closed. We have other things to worry about.”

“Like getting your actual Match back,” he says, face softening in concern.

Natasha sighs a soft, “yes.”

* * *

Darcy finds herself in the purple realm once more. When Dr. Strange had yelled at her to go, the first place she thought of was the Other lady’s place. The effort to purposefully travel through the realms had caused a mild twinge in her head, but the ability felt in reach. As if the adjustment that Wanda had done made all the difference. It gives a strange pain but reminds Darcy of an annoying splinter, sharp and brief and easily ignored.

The Other lady is seated on the ground, another woman next to her with green skin and dark hair. She gives Darcy an annoyed look before disappearing. The Other lady’s expression brightens, obviously pleased at Darcy’s progress.

“You come on purpose this time,” the woman’s words are quiet. “You are improved.”

“Is that bad?” Darcy asks, taking the moment to look around her surroundings. The scenery is very similar to the world filled with her disappeared friends, just with a different hue and lack of people. Darcy notes that her body is somehow still illuminating, which hadn’t happened in her previous visits.

“Perhaps.”

“Did I interrupt your time with your, uh, friend?” Darcy continues, uncertain of how to take the vague response. The lady lets out a soft laugh.

“No, she was avoiding a task, so it’s best that you’ve scared her back into making more progress. She’s probably my only visitor in millennia, other than yourself, but few have the desire to meet me. Only one has ever been particularly insistent,” the woman replies quietly. “He has given many gifts to see me, but all for naught.”

Darcy stops listening with a frown, paying more attention to the motion of the Other lady tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Why do you look like my mom?” she asks, distracted by how similar it is to the memories of her mother. “You could look like anyone, right?”

The woman glances at her thoughtfully.

“Would you rather I look like someone else?” she asks Darcy. “Your nana or papa instead? It’s all the same to me.”

“Why not yourself?” Darcy replies.

The woman smiles and shakes her head.

“Do you miss your mother very dearly?” she asks instead.

“Of course I do,” Darcy replies, looking confused. “Mom gave me everything she could, and held on as long as she could despite matchbreak.”

“Ah, yes, that. I am afraid that couldn’t be helped,” the Other lady replies. Darcy feels the breath rush out of her.

“ _What?_ ” she bursts out, a jolt of emotions she can’t begin to name spiraling in her chest, body brightening with the surge.

“You are all very peculiar creatures. So frail when disappointment manifests, but so hearty if hope does instead. Your mother had very few paths open to her and that was by far the longest one. You don’t understand how difficult it was to get _you_ , you silly girl, on the proper path.”

Darcy’s head begins to spin, the words of the Other lady stabbing into her chest as she begins to realize just how much power the lady wielded.

“ _You_ did it?” Darcy whispers. “You give us these awful marks without care? You cursed my mom to never be whole?”

“She would have died sooner if they had fully bonded. Your father would have dove out of control when she would have died, causing even worse problems than what exists now. His current Match would have been left matchless, and their relationship strained with the lack of connection. Can you imagine?” the tinkling laugh that emits from the creature wearing the form of her mother feels insulting to Darcy. “Of course you can’t. But, I assure you, your mother was a necessary sacrifice. Now all are where they need to be. It was the right thing to do.”

“ _‘A necessary sacrifice’_? So, fuck her, she gets a baby and a life full of regret?” Darcy demands, clenching her fists, and the woman glares at her.

“Are you not listening, mortal? She lived the longest I could manage. She had the support of kind parents, birthed you, worked to provide you the world. In return, she had time with the one she loved the most.”

Darcy lets the words wash over her, entire face scrunching up in pain as she struggles to hold herself together. Her beautiful mother, pawned in a game of soulmate chess, just so others could be where they needed to be. Guilt cuts into Darcy, remembering all the struggles of her mother’s life and all the resentment in her own life to support her mother.

“How did you make mom not recognize Tony? Before I could even read, I saw his face splattered across tabloids. Mom had to have seen those as well. How did you make her forget him?” she demands which is met with a soft laugh.

“You mortals are very consistent at protecting your ego. You think I did something? I did nothing. She met a man named _Eddie_ that night. By the time she saw his face again, years later, she had constructed a neat box inside herself to avoid reminders of her matchbreak. You mortals have quite the interesting defense mechanisms, I am rather impressed.”

“So glad to be of service,” Darcy snaps out.

“Did you not do similarly after your Match day in disappointment?” is Other’s reply. “You seemed reluctant to even look for Steve, let alone confirm your status even after knowing it’s truth.”

Darcy glares in response, unable to refute it. She spends a few moments wrestling with her frustration, hating how right the woman is. The few weeks of relative peace to get to know her Match were beautiful, but Darcy still struggled from time to time with the feeling of inadequacy in comparison to Steve. It feels surreal, being tangled up in all of this.

“Why all this work for me... wait, no. Why do _I_ matter?”

“You didn’t. But now you do. It all depends on your perspective,” is the unhelpful reply.

“Stop speaking in riddles!” Darcy shrieks. 

The woman sighs, patience finally wearing thin.

“Your abilities make you matter.”

“But I'm normal,” refutes Darcy weakly.

“You were. And now you're not. That experimental portal stretched your soul in ways that even your magicians have not successfully attempted. There were many reasons for this, but I have been adjusting, twisting, nudging everything into place for millennia. You matter,” the woman's face is tired as if the admission saddens her.

Darcy isn't sure what she's supposed to think. There's too much information to parse through, and frankly, it terrifies her to be included - necessary even - in something so significant.

_But why me?_

The question burns through her, Darcy unable to think of a single reason why the woman would try so hard for her to exist in this space of time. Any person could have filled her role. The Other woman refusing to answer her isn’t exactly surprising, and Darcy feels the frustration keenly. There aren’t many instances in Darcy’s life where she wishes to cause bodily harm, but this moment is one of them.

“What about Steve? What excuse do you have to give him a mark that he never expected to see completed? Those years of uncertainty? What about Natasha, or, or, or Sam! The marked without hope or the Matchless? How do you excuse playing with people’s lives?” Darcy finally asks. It’s almost comical how quickly she can forgive breaking her own life to pieces - that old thought of _I'm nothing_ niggling her brain - but Darcy hates the idea of everyone else being twisted into similar machinations.

The woman tilts her head.

“You’re angry.”

“You’re darn fucking right I’m angry, we’re not your _toys_!” Darcy yells.

“Are you not?” Other responds. “Steve’s was necessary, being so intricately tied to your path. Natasha is scarcely bonded, humorously if I may say so, mark barely connecting in a way she is just now realizing. Sam... well, he did not need to learn the pain of losing a soulmate. He learned a similar pain without it.”

Darcy is simmering with anger, trying to remain calm in the face of all she’s finding out from the Other lady.

“Who _are_ you?” Darcy asks, forcing her voice to remain calm.

“I have had many names,” the woman repeats from an earlier conversation that feels years ago to Darcy. “However, that lumbering fool has always called me Mistress Death.”

“That lumbering fool who just wiped out half of the universe?” Darcy continues. “Thanos?”

The Other lady - _Mistress Death_ , Darcy rectifies in her mind - nods with a petulant frown on her face.

“He dabbles in what he does not understand. His offerings were meager before, and now are that much more meaningless.”

“Well, I know _I_ don’t understand,” Darcy mutters.

Mistress Death tsks and cups her hand, holding it up to Darcy’s face. A mound of dirt appears there, and a tiny green seedling begins to grow.

“Life,” Mistress Death states, and the plant shoots up about six inches before stopping and withering. “It’s sown, it grows, it ages, it dies.”

The little leaf falls over and begins to disintegrate into the ground.

“It grows again.” 

The seedling pops out in between the browned plant, new life flourishing under the old.

“It is similar with souls. You are born, you bond, you love, you die. Now half of the universe is missing and there is no rebirth.”

“So, what?” Darcy mutters. “We would still repopulate, wouldn't we?”

The little green seedling begins to disintegrate, patches of dust appearing over it, obviously skipping many life cycles.

“Decay,” Mistress Death replies. “The balance has been disturbed, with those tenacious stones, and the fabric of the universe cannot hold it together. My purpose is irrelevant since all is unraveling now.”

“Mordo was right?” Darcy whispers, the rants she was subjected to by the furious magician feeling like eons ago. “We’ve upset the balance and now all will end?”

“ _You_ have done no such thing. This is Thanos’ doing.”

“And he wanted to impress you,” Darcy asks. Mistress Death nods.

“He wants to know why I scorn him. And as with every being who is presented with a challenge, I became their goal. So, young one, this is my fault. Which is why you were all marked so cruelly,” the woman holds a rueful expression. “I had to set it right.”

A few moments pass as Darcy mulls over a being so powerful to dabble in everyone's lives and yet be so contrite.

“What about the stones? Thanos still has the gauntlet. Even if we managed to get it and use it to fix anything, a single one of those stones would destroy anyone who’d attempt to use it, let alone all of them. Seems like an impossible situation,” Darcy lays out, wondering what she is missing. “Jane always said the Aether hungered, but I didn’t know what she meant. They’re alive, aren’t they?”

Mistress Death shakes her head.

“They’re beyond life or death. They cycle through universes, as some mortals acknowledge they need to be separated. Other times, they’re combined and our catastrophe happens yet again. We are not special, simply a pulled thread in the tapestry of our universe.”

“They hold the fabric of our reality together?” Darcy asks. Mistress Death shrugs.

“They are the only force powerful enough to manage it. I think they grow bored and infest different mortals minds with their desires, prompting these horrors. But still, they existed before me. They are eternal.”

“Can we destroy them?”

“Do you want to destroy the very things that bind our reality together? Even if you succeed, it’s only temporary. Every other stone will shatter until the Time Stone brings them back together, and the Time Stone reverts itself in any sign of danger. I’ve seen that play out before.”

There’s a moment of silence as Darcy mulls over this information. The Infinity Stones were such an expansive concept that she realizes that probably no mortal can understand their full potential. Mistress Death doesn't seem surprised by the destruction wrought by the stones.

“What happens if we fail?”

“We end.”

“And the stones?” Darcy whispers. “What happens to them?”

Mistress Death shrugs.

“They begin anew. Or they welcome the void of nothingness. There is no way to record what could have already happened or will possibly happen again.”

A long moment passes in silence, Darcy feeling the weight of the information press down on her.

“When do I have to go back?” Darcy finally questions, knowing she will have to leave this place eventually and brave pain once again.

“You may stay here as long as you need, but know nothing will change. Time has no meaning here. It's a desolate sort of place for a mortal, is it not?” Mistress Death replies. 

“Where I’m from is a desolate place now,” Darcy says quietly. “While I appreciate the information, as difficult as it is to wrangle from you, what am I supposed to do any of it? I can’t tell anyone, per Strange’s directive. Even if I did, I can’t fight. So I’ll be left behind.”

Mistress Death gives her a searching glance.

“You may not feel prepared, but you are. I laid a seed at your birth and you have spent your entire life flexing the skill. Those years of soothing your mother, of taking care of Jane, of easing the guilt in your Match. Each one of those instances of helping your loved ones built on that skill. You will know how to use it when the moment is necessary. Apart from the gift that your Wanda has finally settled in you properly, there is only one last thing I need to give you. Don’t worry, I will be gentle.” 

“What is it?”

The woman steps closer to Darcy with a sorrowful expression.

“You have such a capacity for love, Darcy Lewis, and I am sorry,” Mistress Death says. “This is soulsight, so that you may see both battlefields. Choose your circle wisely.”

Before Darcy can ask what she means by the cryptic words, Mistress Death holds a hand over Darcy's eyes as a brightness overtakes her vision. It is an uncomfortable, stinging sensation that causes her to wince, however, it’s easier than the blinding headaches she’s held lately. A moment passes and the light fades away.

“You may not wish to stay, now that I’ve given this to you.”

Darcy opens her eyes. The view of her mother is gone. Instead, a being encased in robes darker than midnight stands before her, with features alien and shifting endlessly. The only lightness on the being is its eyes which are glimmering with a rainbow of color. While the form is terrifying in essentials, Darcy is struck with how _sick_ the being looks. There’s no basis for Darcy to think this, but she feels the certainty down to the core of her being.

“Go, daughter. May you have success.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wrangled with editing this chapter so many times. I could probably work on it for hours more, but it's one of those things where I find little tidbits that frustrate me and I just need to get it out here. I pretty much cried with the last scene, generally affected by all that is revealed, so that's my oof. :\
> 
> Hope your days are well and if you're out of town, your travels safe. <3


	14. Chapter 14

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The consistent beep is at first only a murky sound underneath layers. It steadily grows stronger until a burst of ambient noise pops into existence as Darcy finally acclimates to the world.

Returning her soul to her body leaves an odd tingle, but she’s aware of it and it is easier than before. Darcy can feel her body, her soul, everything, connecting like the sensation of a long stretch. Perhaps the work Wanda did was far more important and worth the pain than Darcy even realized. 

There’s a mask attached to her face that is cutting into the skin of her cheeks, and her hand is numb due to a weight being pressed on it. She’s surprised at how clear her head feels, despite the drama of her exit from this particular realm previously with Mordo’s murderous attempts prompting her to panic. 

Darcy slowly opens her eyes.

Everything is blurry. There’s a shiny quality to the room as if her eyes are waterlogged, but despite all the information swirling through her, she doesn’t feel like she needs to cry. Her eyes hurt, however, with a slight stinging that makes her wince.

The weight on her hand lightens and she grimaces further as she hears Steve’s voice.

“Darcy?”

Darcy closes her eyes, frown deepening. She must be imagining him. Steve isn’t supposed to be here.

_Where is here supposed to be though?_

She opens her eyes again, blinking as her sight clears and fixates on the canned lights in the ceiling. The lights are at least not doubled, her vision focusing on the equipment quickly. They look familiar and she suddenly realizes where she is.

_Avengers Tower._

Darcy is suddenly flung into a memory of a sterile hospital that she’d been imprisoned in once before. Darcy can hear the monitors begin to ping in agitation with her rising panic. 

_Did someone take me to Ross?_

She grabs at her face, trying to rip off the mask and finds all sorts of sensors attached to her. Despite her vision working, she feels blind. Everything is constricting, straps digging into her face and a blanket tucked snugly around her. Closing her eyes she begins to shake her head, struggling to break free of her imagined restraints.

“Darcy? Hold on, Bruce is coming,” the voice similar to Steve’s murmurs as Darcy still struggles in vain. Hands manage to get the face mask off of her, familiar fingers splaying against her cheeks to cradle her face.

“ _Steve_ ,” she whispers, a ragged sigh escaping her as she feels anxiety curb at his confirmed presence. “You’re really here?”

“Had to come back when I knew my girl was in trouble,” Steve leans to touch his forehead against hers and a wave of calmness washes over her. Eyes still closed, she realizes her fingertips are digging into the taut material of his suit.

_He’s real. He’s here._

“Why am I in the Tower? I don’t want to be here, Steve,” she whispers out, trying not to focus on what exactly is bothering her about the change of location. “Why are you here? End of the world or not, Ross won’t care. He’s ruthless.”

He brushes a hand down her hair, a strangled sort of laugh escaping him.

“You scared us, Darcy. You think I care about Ross when you almost died?” Steve asks with a choked voice.

“I didn’t, though. I don’t think I-” she breaks off as she hears the door opening, and finally feels calm enough to open her eyes to see the newcomer.

“God, it’s good to see you awake, Darcy,” Bruce walks in and she blinks. Her eyes are still stinging, and there’s something odd about his movements. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she mutters, uncertain if she can even describe the tumult of emotion that she’s riding currently. There’s a relief in being successful at finding her body in a different location and managing to enter it without help. However, she's not sure how she feels about the burden of new knowledge from Mistress Death.

Looking back at Steve, he’s watching her in concern. Darcy feels a stab of pain, knowing she can’t tell him about her encounter with their friends. How good it was to see Jane and Wanda and know that even if they’re out of reach, they’re not _gone_. How Bucky and Sam were in her peripherals, too busy to chat, keeping her from harm.

Strange had been adamant about her silence.

_Oh, god, I can’t tell Steve anything about the other realms._

Because, really, how would she begin to explain Mistress Death? Or the why or how marks existed? It didn’t matter in the least for their current problems and would only open more dialogue on how she knows about it. It’s just safer to stay silent.

“Do you know why you collapsed?” the words that Bruce speak are rote but unfortunately necessary. On the epiphany that she’ll have to remain silent, Darcy shrugs as she follows his movements around the room till he comes to her on the other side of the bed. There’s a blurry edge around Bruce and she squints at him, realizing she’s not wearing her contacts or her glasses, but somehow everything is clear except for the man busying himself in front of her.

“Uh... I think I told that Accords guy to go fuck himself,” she says, distracted by the way his motion is trailing oddly. “I, uh, may have had an attack since I realized exactly what sort of throwdown I was initiating with Ross and that might have been a smidge too much with only four hours of drunken sleep from the night before.”

Bruce winces with a guilty look but brings a flashlight up to her eyes to check her pupils. His countenance changes to alarm which he tries to cover with a neutral expression.

“Yeah, I vaguely remember yelling at Hulk about how stupid that was of you,” Bruce murmurs as he motions wordlessly to Steve who comes around from the other side of the bed. Darcy follows Steve’s movements and sees the same odd quality in his walk as well. 

_This is soulsight, so you may see both battlefields._

The words of Mistress Death strike her as she looks at Steve. There’s a split where she can see Steve’s purpose seeming to steer his body, but it’s so slight she isn’t able to register it without concentrating. 

_I can see his soul?_

There’s also a thin strand shooting out of his arm that when she looks down at her own, connects. While it’s not a thick strand, it seems solid and pulses like a heartbeat.

_I can see his mark?_

Glancing at Bruce, the same edge is riding his motions and she can see a strand shoot out from his rib, a wispy sort of connection that seems to vanish at the end. 

“Did Betty dust?” she asks suddenly. Bruce’s face falls into a grim expression, lips pursing. Steve glances at him in uncertainty.

“Yes,” Bruce states in a suspiciously bland tone.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy says.

“What makes you ask?” he responds, visibly pushing the pain aside with a gruff voice. She shrugs, deciding to prevaricate. “I didn’t think you knew who my Match was.”

“Culver, remember? You two were legendary. I didn’t know if anyone checked. I figured you’d know better than anyone else.”

“Are you feeling okay? Your vision clear?” Bruce asks abruptly, changing the subject. Darcy feels a bit bad for blurting out her question as he continues to shine a flashlight in her eyes. 

_Should have just asked Natasha, she’d have known._

“Yeah, why?” she asks.

“Can you tell us what happened to you?” Bruce asks again in a different way, ignoring her question.

Darcy glances at Steve and back to Bruce. There’s a pause as she considers what information she can share that will be the least damaging. 

“Uh, well, after I told the guy to piss off,” she mutters sheepishly, wringing her hands together. “I think I had a bit of a momentary internal crisis realizing what I’d just done and, uh... I popped out of my body.”

“Popped out?” Steve asks, looking confused.

“Yeah. It happened before, right before the Asgardians arrived. I saw you for a minute after it happened?” Darcy explains, facing Bruce. “But then they landed and, uh, I guess Hulk was pretty excited to see Valkyrie again...”

Bruce nods. “So what does this ‘popping’ entail?”

“I dissociate my soul from my body. I was there, during my collapse, and could see everything that happened. I saw Subira coming out of the building to save me from completely crashing. Valkyrie and Hulk’s panic. Then there was a man who helped me back into my body before, but I’m too chatty for my own good and he attacked me,” she shudders. Reminded of the shield that protected her from the man’s attacks, she glances down to rub her mark. A frown appears on her face as she notices it glowing.

“What the-” she begins.

“It started to glow sometime after you collapsed,” Bruce interrupts. “I take it that the extra adornment isn’t usual?”

Darcy shakes her head, marveling at the star that’s nestled inside the oval zero and the small jagged edges that shoot out like electricity. She wonders if perhaps Wanda’s efforts or Mistress Death’s gift caused the change. A familiar male wrist is placed in front of her with a matching mark, and she glances up at Steve with a grimace. It shouldn’t be surprising that he is afflicted the same way she is but it makes her feel guilty nonetheless.

“Sorry.”

“What? Darcy, no,” Steve says. “It doesn’t matter what our mark is or does. Natasha’s texts were taking hours to go through. This change alerted me to your collapse so we knew to come back.”

Darcy is about to reply, glancing nervously at Bruce when the door bursts open and Tony walks in. Darcy’s eyes go wide, a jangle of nerves warring with the sudden consolation at seeing with her own eyes that Tony didn’t dust. It’s been weeks since she saw him, the last time slightly memorable with her throwing the possibility of his paternity in his face. 

Tony pauses at the door, mouth gaping open. A beat passes where he seems to collect himself and he stalks over. Sending a sharp glance at Steve, which prompts the taller man to step back, Tony collapses his weight onto Darcy in a hug. She squeaks at the unexpected show of affection before awkwardly patting his back. Darcy remembers Peter from the other realm, knowing Tony’s emotional equilibrium must be a bit compromised at the moment. 

“Half Pint, you better have a good fucking explanation as to why you lied about your injuries,” he gruffly states before releasing her. Darcy’s emotions shift, the relief from Tony calling her ‘Half Pint’ once again contradicting with the word _lied_ that causes her to bristle. It cuts into her, even if she’s aware that Tony is only talking about the aftermath of her being ripped through the experimental portal weeks ago when she brushed off his concerns.

“Excuse me, Tony? That’s really what you want to start with even if we haven’t seen each other in weeks? When _you_ ran off on a suicide mission, chasing Strange onto an alien ship?” Darcy deflects, a bizarre relief that Tony is here and able to argue with her. She yanks out the IV and other sensors attached to her, a motion that’s becoming far too familiar.

“I couldn’t let them just take him, Strange had the Time Stone!” Tony refutes. “That’s no excuse for you to just collapse at the drop of a hat because you’re not taking care of yourself!”

Darcy jumps off the bed, ignoring how Steve looks wary but resigned and Bruce who is wearing an expression of confused concern. Standing tall, she glares right up at Tony who frowns down at her, his own expression morphing into puzzlement.

“You’re one to talk! Have you slept at all since Titan?” Darcy scolds, emotions mixed about the strange familiarity in chiding Tony. “It took, what, _weeks_ for the Asgardians to arrive, but you got here from just as potentially far away in even less time? You’re pushing the reserves you don’t have right now, Tony, and you’re an idiot if you think you’re fooling anyone!”

“I don’t think-” Bruce begins, eyeing the situation with a sharpening suspicion.

“What the hell is wrong with your eyes?” Tony interrupts, looking wildly at Bruce and Steve. “Do you see this, Bruce?”

“My eyes?” Darcy asks in a whisper. She’s suddenly aware of how closely Steve is watching her, minuscule movements belying his misgiving.

“I was about to talk to her about it when you barged in, Tony,” Bruce sighs. Darcy shakes herself, refusing to be diverted.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Tony. When was the last time you slept? How did you get here? When did you get here?” Darcy fires off questions, prodding Tony on the top of his chest. Bruce walks away to begin rummaging in one of his cupboards.

“I slept on the way here. Nebula and I took shifts piloting her little spacecraft,” Tony grumbles. Bruce appears next to him and holds up a mirror to Darcy.

Darcy inhales sharply as she sees her reflection. Her eyes have a thin halo of vibrant color around the pupil, blending into her natural blue, shifting slowly from one shade to the next. It reminds her of the kaleidoscope of colors that Mistress Death’s eyes had been, but subtle in regards that you can only really notice it if you’re standing close to her.

“Huh.”

“ _Huh?!_ ” Tony blurts out incredulously. “Your eyes are doing freaky things and all you can say is ‘huh’?! Pretty sure when I saw you last, your eyes weren’t doing _that_.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Darcy demands, voice pitching up. “I do not know how it happened any more than you!”

She can feel both Steve and Tony’s gaze sharpen. A bizarre wish flits across Darcy’s mind, _maybe I should have stayed with Mistress Death. Then I wouldn’t be getting an inquisition_.

“Really,” Tony states flatly. Steve is unnervingly silent, watching her with that narrow gaze.

Darcy focuses on breathing, expression clear. She’s had a decent amount of practice lying to Tony but it cuts into her that she has to. Steve is another story, she’s not even sure she can sidestep his suspicion. Darcy’s terrified of what will happen if she doesn’t, Dr. Strange had been clear about staying silent. 

_I need time to think this through._

“Maybe it’s a manifestation from my injury. Who knows if their little portal experiment wasn’t fucked up? I mean, it was definitely shitty at the time. So while this is trippy, it’s not like I’m blind or something. Hell, my vision is probably the best it’s been, which is great since I have no idea what happened to my glasses,” she insists. Hopefully, she can downplay it enough that they’ll let it go, and not force straight answers out of her.

“Thor said you were... wait, what did he call it?” Bruce mutters, as if uncertain about interjecting into the conversation. “Plane shifting. He said you were plane shifting.”

Darcy blinks, confusion genuine. Unfortunately, she can guess what Thor means.

“What is that?” she asks, carefully blank.

“Something about ‘traversing the universe’?” Tony says in a strained voice, grabbing at her elbow to tug her towards the door. “Let’s go ask him.”

“Hey!” Darcy protests. “Tony, I swear to fucking-”

“No arguments, Half Pint!”

His words knock the wind out of her fledgling argument, throwing her mind down a memory of Tony saying the same phrase months ago before any of this madness had started. When he had sent her to merely deliver a message about the end of the world. The sheer desire to cry hits her hard, so she bites down hard on her lip with a frown. Before she realizes it, she finds herself in the elevator, Steve and Bruce hopping in as the doors close, wondering that perhaps it’s not in her best interest to have Thor explain more.

_Not if I want to keep Mordo from trying to kill me again._

* * *

In the elevator, Steve eyes Darcy in concern. He’s not sure what is happening to her and it terrifies him. Her body looks downright gaunt from the events of the last few days, the uncertainty of her seizures and now the changes to her body - eyes colored similarly to the rainbow of the Bifrost - are all so sudden. He refrains from intervening, however, by how she’s shifting nervously, avoidance written all over her features.

_What is she so scared of?_

A spike of guilt hits him as he knows she’s not built for this assault on her body. Steve wishes he could take it all for her, his body much more resilient to such continuous stress, but as usual, he’s powerless.

It’s a feeling he’s becoming intimately familiar with and he despises it.

“Who else is here at the Tower?” Darcy asks Tony softly, glancing down at her elbow with his hand still on it.

Tony frowns, slowly removing his hand from her elbow, like he’d forgotten it was there. Bruce glances at Steve, brows furrowing together with the realization that there’s a bit of history he’s unaware.

“Well, I brought Nebula here. I guess the whole merry crew has shown up since Thor and Rogers here returned from whatever they were doing not long after Bruce brought you. Romanoff and Barton showed up before me, and there’s a handful of other miscreants running around.”

Darcy seems to mull over this information, pressing her lips together. Steve calculates only about half of their group knows how she’s affiliated with Tony, but he isn’t expecting it to last long. He’s not even entirely sure why she’s so resistant to the idea since Tony seems nothing but pleased about it, despite her status of being Steve’s Match. And while Darcy being his Match had been a relatively straightforward explanation for her sudden integration into their group, Darcy being Tony’s daughter always seems to cause people to pause. They assume Tony hates Steve since the incident in Germany and Steve can’t refute it, even with their problems being a bit more complicated than most even know.

_The world has to crack in half for us to even talk._

This thought causes Steve to stifle a sigh, knowing it doesn’t matter. Darcy’s still his Match, and it doesn’t make a difference to him who she’s related to. He just wishes that perhaps he’d done things differently so they all could have avoided the strife. 

_Hell, I wish I’d done a lot of things differently._

Steve thinks about when he connected the dots of Hydra’s reach into both his friends' lives, not knowing if there was perhaps a path that could have avoided all the discord. Another wave of helplessness hits him, knowing the catalyst of his choices had probably been avoidable.

The elevator opens after a ding and Tony enters the common room. Darcy follows him, her expression morphing into a grim sort of determination as she brushes her hair back from her face. It alarms Steve. It reminds him of a time when she denied their mark, denied _him_ , and it makes him worry over what she’ll deny this time.

Thor is standing by the window, arms folded as he looks over the city, with Valkyrie lounging on a sofa with her leg over the armrest. Rocket is dismantling the rifle he’s been toting around for a while at the coffee table. Thor turns at their arrival and walks over with a sad smile, encompassing Darcy up in an enormous hug. She flinches a bit, eyes squinting like she’s been blinded by the sun, but it’s only because Steve is watching her so intently that he notices.

“Lady Darcy, I am joyed that you’ve made it back from your travels,” he says softly, releasing her with an affectionate pat on the head. Valkyrie jumps up to come over and sling an arm over Darcy’s shoulders, pulling her over to the sofa with her. Steve blinks, not expecting that sort of devotion to Darcy from the female Asgardian, but mentally shrugs it off.

_Darcy wrapped you around her finger in one conversation. Why are you surprised?_

Tony blinks at Rocket for a slight moment before shaking his head, as if he’d seen stranger things in the past few days and a raccoon creature cleaning a rifle shouldn’t even register. Nodding at Thor, Tony motions at Darcy.

“Yeah, so about that. Explain again to her what plane shifting is and whatnot,” Tony says as Darcy rolls her eyes. Thor turns with a somber look at her.

“Simply shifting through realms with your soul. From my understanding, it’s a fairly early thing they teach in sorcery circles. I remember my brother having more of an affinity for those sorts of things, but it never interested me,” Thor shrugs, casual about the concept of disconnecting the soul from its body. “I think perhaps you need more training, perhaps, if your body here suffers from the process.”

“Who was there with you in Norway?” Valkyrie asks Darcy, frowning, which causes Darcy to sigh.

“A man named Mordo. I could tell you knew he was there, but unable to help. Could you hear him?” Darcy replies. “He helped me into my body once, right before you and the other refugees arrived, so I figured he was mostly harmless. So when he appeared this last time with this crazy whip-turned-sword magic thing, I wasn’t expecting it. He had been helpful before.”

“Why would he attack you?” Steve questions. The idea of his Match collapsing due to her soul evacuating her body is only a slightly terrifying concept, and the fact that there are dangers there he can’t even see make him struggle to push down the feeling of foreboding.

“The first time it happened, he thought it was an accident,” Darcy says. There’s a slight pause before she continues. “The second time, he thought I was purposefully dabbling in something I should not, so I guess he wanted to teach me a lesson. You know, ‘get off my magical lawn, you young whippersnapper.’”

Steve isn’t entirely convinced that’s all that happened, but Bruce holds his pad out to Tony and points at it, questioning in a soft voice.

“When did _this_ happen?”

Tony only glances down at the pad for a moment before shooting Darcy an uncertain look. "Well..."

Bruce glances at Darcy, then at Steve. Steve can see Darcy tense, realizing what information the doctor must have finally decided to check. Valkyrie looks visibly concerned at Darcy’s change of expression.

“When did you find out? Does Pepper know?” Bruce continues. “It explains quite a-”

“It’s not important,” Darcy declares firmly. The flinch that Tony gives is slight but Steve notices it. Bruce sees it as well by how his expression shifts to apprehension.

“And there’s why I didn’t mention it,” Tony mutters to himself, fingers digging into his hair in a frazzled manner.

“C’mon,” Valkyrie nudges Darcy’s leg as she stands, holding out a hand to pull Darcy up, who looks rather uneasy. “Let’s go find some food, yeah? I’m starving and it’s a bit crowded in here.”

Darcy breathes out slowly as she stands. “Yeah.”

“Wait a minute-” Bruce stops and looks bewildered at the mildly terrifying smile that Valkyrie sends his way. She tosses her head back.

“I’m going to take my _shield sister_ here to eat. You all can do whatever you want,” she asserts firmly, arm twisted around Darcy’s waist as she steers her out without looking back.

Steve blinks, watching them disappear down a corridor. He feels a stab of disappointment in himself for letting this happen. He should be doing more but he’s just watching events unfold yet again. While he didn’t know the female Asgardian, he is grateful for Valkyrie pulling Darcy from the room. Darcy needed rest, not more strain added onto her.

“I will say, you all are an entertaining bunch. You throw out threats with such cheer at the drop of a hat,” Rocket observes, beginning the process of re-assembling his rifle.

“I do not understand why Lady Darcy was so upset,” Thor eyes Bruce in confusion. Bruce glances at Tony expression clearly saying ‘ _well?_ ’

“Look, she’s been abundantly clear she wants nothing to do with me as a...” Tony breaks off, obviously pained to say it aloud as he finishes in a muttered tone, “a dad or father or whatever.”

Steve can see Thor’s surprise.

“You sired my shield sister?” is his placid reply, taking a few steps forward.

“I mean, it’s not like I _knew_. It was brought to light after _he_ got her abducted-” Tony begins, motioning to Steve, which causes Steve to scoff.

“That’s right, Tony, I’m the one who sent Darcy to Wakanda by Ross-” Steve refutes, anger spiking.

“You just found out?” Bruce adds incredulously. “She’s been friends with Thor longer than any of-”

“You Midgardians have strange customs if you don’t know you sired-” Thor butts in as well, looking more concerned by the moment.

“ _Enough!_ ”

A female yell interrupts them and the group of men each turn to see Pepper standing in an opposite doorway, eyes wild and horrified.

“What on earth are you doing? I came to tell you that I can’t find any information on Dr. Cho’s whereabouts, and find you squabbling instead?”

Tony’s face is conflicted, the same sort of high strung frustration riding his features that Steve hasn’t seen since Siberia. Bruce looks chagrined as if perhaps he should have waited for a different moment to bring it up and Thor just looks troubled. Steve isn’t even sure what he is feeling, the bulk of his thoughts concerned with Darcy, but it smarts, being accused that Darcy’s reluctance to accept Tony is somehow his fault.

But with Pepper’s face glaring at each one of them in turn, it’s moments like these that remind Steve just how terrifying the women in his life are. Darcy can play him like a fiddle, Natasha manages him with her subtle ways, and here’s Pepper, tall and graceful, looking like she’s going to murder someone.

Steve finds it a bit eerie that thinking about Natasha seems to make her appear. She walks around Pepper into the room, Clint following behind her, both of them assessing the group.

“Darcy’s awake,” Tony states quietly. “And it seems like that situation hasn’t changed.”

Pepper eyes Tony critically. A beat passes as Bruce and Thor both look wary, but Steve knows that glance between a Matched pair. It’s the exchange of a silent conversation, one that he has shared with Darcy a handful of times in the past few weeks. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Pepper replies.

“Pep...” Tony begins, expression strangely raw. Pepper holds up a hand.

“I know, Tony,” she sighs. Shaking her head glances at the others in the room. “Please, set this aside, all of you. You have far more important things to speak of, I’m sure. I’m glad she woke up, however, as there’s been no word on Dr. Cho. The only confirmation I could get was that she didn’t dust.”

She begins to walk out of the room, asking, “FRIDAY, where is Darcy currently?”

“Miss Lewis is located in her suite,” FRIDAY’s cool voice reports as Pepper makes her way out of the room.

“So, uh, hey guys,” Clint begins. “We miss the family drama?”

It doesn’t surprise Steve in the least that Clint knows. With how close the man is with Natasha, he would have figured it out whether the spy mentioned it to him or not. Tony turns to walk over to a cabinet, pouring himself a drink that he tosses back quickly. Steve feels himself deflate, not wanting to argue anymore, this mess between him and Tony like a burr under his skin that never seems to heal. Steve drops his body onto the couch, hand rubbing his forehead in agitation.

_Guess everyone knows now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I complained recently about how frustrating it is to write scenes with like 10 people in it? They're so difficult. D:


	15. Chapter 15

Pepper’s departure leaves the large room in an awkward silence, which Clint finds strangely unnerving considering the number of people in it. The world is half gone and quiet as it is. 

“So, the gangs back together, with some interesting additions. When are we going on a space tour?” he finally asks, breaking the awkward tension as he throws his legs over the backrest to sit on the top of a couch.

Tony scoffs, pouring himself another glass of alcohol at the mini-bar he stands at. The blue-skinned woman from earlier walks in at this moment, glaring at Tony as she stalks towards him. Thor takes a careful step closer, naturally distrusting the alien woman who wears a sneer like it’s her birthright. The raccoon creature begins muttering under his breath at her appearance.

“Of course she'd survive...”

“Your crashing my ship damaged more than sixty percent of it! The propulsion systems are completely trashed, there’s no way I can leave this shithole planet!” she screams at Tony, pointing at the pad in her hand.

Tony looks at her impassively, as if expecting her anger and not being particularly bothered by it. It’s almost humorous how different his countenance has shifted from the frustration a moment before to blase, seeming to irritate her further.

“You Terrans are _wasting time_ ,” she growls. 

“How long do you think it’d take to jump from here to his corner of the universe, Nebula?” Tony asks. Her eyes narrow as if she’s calculating it internally.

“If he’s where I assume, about three weeks,” she grumbles.

“We only got here due to salvaging off that other ship on Titan. Your little fighter isn’t built for that long of a distance, so you’re just going to have to wait to see what we figure out first,” Tony patiently explains, surprising Clint. The woman - Nebula, apparently - bares her teeth in anger but goes and sits down in a corner anyway.

“I see you’re alone, Rocket,” she states at the raccoon who bristles. “You’re the last Guardian left, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you too, Nebula,” Rocket replies without a bite, an odd sort of familiarity to their banter. “How’d you get dragged to Terra?”

“I sent a message to your team about Titan,” Nebula states, looking agitated. “Found Stark there with your crew before Thanos succeeded in his quest.”

Rocket eyes her and, with a loud set of clicks, the rifle is put back together. He tests the empty chamber with a resounding click.

“Well, we’ll just have to get that asshole to fix it,” he grumbles under his breath. “Third time’s a charm, right?”

“To answer your question, Clint, the space tour depends on what Point Break here found,” Tony interrupts. “You find Thanos’ hiding place, Thor?”

Thor shifts, looking thoughtful. “Not initially, as we trailed after you, Stark, and found the _Benetar_ in its distressed state. But we did venture to one of Rocket’s contacts for a lead.”

“What did they say?” Bruce asks at the same time Natasha asks, “can we trust them?”

“As Thanos devastated their system’s home planet to gain the Power Stone, they are indeed a trustworthy source,” Thor explains sadly. Natasha accepts the information with a nod.

“They’ve been finding a lot of ships heading to a planet named Zen-Whoberi,” Steve supplies. 

“Yeah, it’s apparently a hot destination right now,” Rocket grumbles. Nebula scoffs.

“What’s that, Nebula? Want to share with the rest of the class?” Tony’s eyebrows are raised. The expression is oddly clean of anything but sincere interest and it unnerves Clint a bit.

“Of course that’s where Thanos would go. He put Gamora up on a pedestal so high I couldn’t hope to compete,” the alien woman mutters. Everyone but Rocket turn to look over at Tony who is frowning.

“Come again?”

“Out of all his children, Gamora was his favorite. Efficient and brutal,” she replies, grim expression growing on her face.

“So what?” Clint asks, not even sure who the ‘Gamora’ woman is. “What do we care about a random follower of Thanos?”

“Whoa, whoa, I know Gamora had a past, but she did _not_ follow Thanos. Our merry band of morons is more of a family to her than that purple asshole ever deluded himself to be,” Rocket interjects while Nebula sends Clint a withering glare. “Mention of him would send her scurrying for either solutions or avoidance. Which is why our group split up, me and Groot with Thor, while the rest - Gamora included - went to try to head off Thanos in Knowhere.”

“That’s how he captured her? She seemed resigned when Thanos brought her to me,” Nebula mutters. “It was my fault for not destroying the optic chip. Better to be blind and tortured than...”

She cuts off. Tony offers an alcohol-filled glass to her but she sniffs at it disapprovingly with a shake of her head. Bruce is frowning, Thor and Steve look stoic at the reference to torture, and Natasha appears bored. Clint is still confused, frowning deeply at her.

“Again, so what?” Clint repeats his question. “Wouldn’t that mean he’d place her someplace special if he liked her so much?”

“She spent years, before gathering those ragtag bunch of idiots, searching for the Soul Stone for Thanos. He took Gamora with him to Vormir to gather it. She hasn’t been seen since.”

“So she’s dead,” Rocket states plainly, expecting the news. Nebula sends a solemn nod to the creature who turns to his sack. Rocket rummages through it to pull out a pad and fiddle with it. 

“Yeah, we know that he killed Gamora, considering how Quill flew off the handle. What difference does it make?” Tony asks, expression hollow. Clint is glad to see he’s not the only one eyeing Tony in suspicion, not knowing the particulars of what he endured off-world. 

The only one who isn’t looking at him is Rocket, who shakes his head sadly in a quiet voice, saying, “Sounds like Quill...”

“If Thanos did indeed sacrifice Gamora for the Soul Stone, he will go to Zen-Whoberi,” Nebula says. “I don’t think he’s capable of such a plebian emotion like _regret_ , but he’s built her up so high... he spent a lot of time there between conquering the galaxy.”

“ _‘I’d finally rest, and watch the sunrise on a grateful universe,’_ ” Tony mutters quietly which Clint can just barely hear. “You think he’s that predictable?”

“Yes,” she asserts in frustration, slight clicks heard from her arms as she tightens her fists.

“Yeah, and with the proof of a bunch of ships jumping to it, we aren’t the only ones who’ve figured out the Mad Titan’s responsibility for the state of the universe,” Rocket states, his paw sliding through information on his pad quickly.

“And how do you know Thanos so well?” Natasha asks Nebula with a deceptive softness. Clint is glad she asked since he’s feeling annoyed at the assuredness of the alien. Nebula hasn’t stopped glaring at everyone since she’s arrived and he doesn’t trust her. He’s used to prickly individuals, but his general goodwill is at a limit with a chunk of his family missing.

“It’s Gamora,” Nebula hisses as if that explains everything. “She was brought into Thanos’ demented ‘family’ not long after me. We were close until she surpassed his expectations. Then he would giddily dismantle and replace me piece by piece in satisfaction over how she’d usually best me in our duels.”

An awkward pause passes in the light of this information. Clint is still annoyed but isn’t sure if it’s because Nebula has a legitimate reason for being so obviously fucked up or at himself for feeling that familiar tug of sympathy once again. 

“Okay, so we will go check out the Zen-Whoberi planet. Do you think we could cannibalize the navigation system off your ship and retrofit it onto one of ours?” Tony asks Nebula, before glancing at Bruce. “Unless that ship you brought Darcy in is capable...”

“It is indeed capable, Stark, but unnecessary. I can harness the power of the Bifrost now, so I am able to transport us all whenever you wish to leave,” Thor interjects. “It is how we were able to return so quickly for Lady Darcy.”

“Then _let’s go_ ,” Nebula growls.

“Hold on. We need information on this Zen-Whoberi planet so we can appropriately pack and plan,” Natasha glares at them all, which causes Thor to nod thoughtfully and motion to Rocket for his pad. 

“I still need to check you over, Tony,” Bruce mentions, eyeing his gut in suspicion. “Did you get _stabbed_?”

“T’is only a flesh wound,” Tony says as he throws back the rest of his drink. Bruce frowns.

“Fix yourself up, Stark, before you fall over on your feet. Clint and I are the only ones rested enough to do anything. We’ll take care of preparing while you all go _rest_ ,” Natasha grumbles. Steve is already up from his seat, pausing at the door when he hears Nebula's question.

“So when will we leave?” Nebula hisses at Natasha, who remains unperturbed.

“In the morning. _Go_.”

* * *

Darcy is surprised by the affectionate squeeze Valkyrie gives her waist, pulling her down along the corridor.

“Where are we going? The kitchen is the other direction,” Darcy mumbles, not _really_ wanting to go back. She’s not about to squander the gift that Valkyrie is giving her by getting her out from explaining questions she’s not sure she can answer. Darcy’s eyes sting a bit from the sheer brilliance of Valkyrie’s and Thor’s souls, the Asgardians glowing a bit more distinctly than anyone she’s seen so far.

“Doesn’t matter. They were being morons, so as long as we’re out of there...” Valkyrie shrugs again, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe a bath? You look a bit peaky and like you could use a minute alone.”

Darcy sighs, knowing the other woman is right. Her clothes are sticking to her in uncomfortable ways, so she motions forward, heading to another elevator to go the few floors down to her room that she abandoned a couple months ago. 

“I guess we can go to my suite, I used to live here,” Darcy murmurs, leading Valkyrie without incident to her room. She feels a stab of worry when she sees the door, uncertain if it’s still technically her room when she hasn’t been in the country in weeks. She keys her pass code into the pad and it pops open without hesitation. Darcy hesitates, however, knowing that while her room still accessible, everything within could have been packed up and thrown out.

_But Tony wouldn’t do that._

This is confirmed the moment she enters the room and she’s hit with a wave of sadness. She hadn’t lived there for much time, but it was long enough to have memories nestled in every corner. The late nights with Jane watching TV, bemoaning the superhero shows for their inaccuracies. The small kitchenette where she would bake treats for the lab. The pictures of her friends through the years - Jane and Dr. Selvig more prominent than others, but there’s even a picture of Thor in the mix - and she deflates as she continues through into her bedroom.

Even with the room undisturbed from a more carefree time, Darcy knows something is wrong. The absence of Jane in such a space where she used to be so prominent is noticeable. And just because she has confirmation that Jane isn’t gone only goes so far. This eerie space showcases how much they lost. It still hurts. 

Darcy walks into her bathroom to start the shower and returns to the bedroom to gather the things she needs for it. She notices her old hairbrush is missing as well as the family picture of her with her mom, nana, and papa that usually resides on her nightstand. Coming back into the living space, she notices Valkyrie keeping a respectful distance, eyeing the crocheted granny square blanket over the couch and the books strewn about the room with a carefully blank face.

“You be okay here for a bit if I go get some food?” Valkyrie asks, eyeing Darcy like she’s not sure if she should leave her alone. “Thor’s suite had some food, I think, so I can go snag it while you take your time. His place is a lot bigger than this.”

“Yeah, from my understanding the ‘proper’ heroes get a bit more space. I was just here along for the ride with Jane, so we got smaller suites. I’m not complaining, I like cozy spaces, and the rent in New York is _insane_ ,” Darcy says, finding her hairbrush and picture frame on the bar that separates the kitchenette from the living space. Grabbing the brush, she begins pulling it through her tangles in careful segments, trying to keep the frizz down. “I should be fine. FRIDAY can yell for you if something happens.”

“I’ll be back then,” Valkyrie nods, heading out the door.

And just like that, Darcy is alone.

The shower in the background is the only ambient sound. She returns to it, stripping as she goes, and immediately ducks her head under the perfectly heated water after stepping in. A shuddering breath escapes her as if realizing how much had changed since the last time she was here. 

The fact that a majority of the Avengers now know how she’s Tony’s daughter shouldn’t bother her so much. Her father had always been an enigma to Darcy, a shadow in her life, easy to blame for all of the problems she felt unfairly dealt. If he’d been around, maybe her mother would have been happy. If he’d been around, maybe they could have been one of those typical families. If he’d been around, maybe her mother wouldn’t have broken down into a shell of a woman as the years went on.

But if he’d been around, she probably wouldn’t have met Jane, at least not in the way that bonded them like sisters. She can’t deny that going to Culver was partly to be close to her mother through all her appointments. Juggling classes and her mother’s care had been a necessity... but Mistress Death was right. 

Even if Tony had been there, he would not have been that father she wasted so much time as a child envisioning. Her parents had been too young, almost definitely too immature considering Tony’s antics as an actual adult, and would have been destined for heartache. Darcy is aware of how many death threats Tony has held against his life. Tabloids loved to gossip about them, almost more than his romantic endeavors. The _drama_ of his life was always newsworthy.

Her mother would not have handled that well at all. And according to Mistress Death, mom would have likely died due to a threat succeeding.

It was more likely to go horribly wrong as much as Darcy _wished_ for it going wonderfully right.

Scrubbing her face, Darcy ignores how tears clog her vision. She feels like she cries all the time now and she’s tired of it. Grieving for her mother after so much time seems futile. Everyone has lost someone, she’s no one special. She’s the lucky one with a confirmed hope of her friends being alive. 

Turning off the shower, she steps out onto the rug and begins to towel herself dry. A glance into the slightly foggy mirror, she stares at herself. If it wasn’t for the unusual shift of color in her eyes, she’d think she was in the past just getting ready for another day of work. Closing them, she holds onto the moment of silence, thinking of how this is all a dream. She’s been living in the Tower for a few months, doing work like always, and Jane will come bang on her door any minute to bug her about some transcriptions she’s messed up.

“Miss Lewis?” the cool voice of FRIDAY interrupts her daydream and the moment is shattered. “Ms. Potts would like to speak with you if you’re available.”

“Okay,” Darcy says in a small voice, darting into her bedroom to throw on the first few things she finds. Just a simple t-shirt and jeans, but it’s fast enough that she walks into the living space to see Pepper by the door.

“Darcy,” the woman says, coming over to hug her. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Yeah, I’m glad to see you too,” Darcy says as she pulls away after the embrace. Pepper usually kept a more professional distance in the past and Darcy isn’t quite sure how to handle the affectionate side of the taller woman. 

“What happened to your eyes?” Pepper asks, peering down into Darcy’s face with concern.

“I guess it’s part of the accident. Did Tony fill you in on what Ross did? I’m a bit messed up from that, but I’m okay. I feel pretty good, considering,” Darcy downplays, turning a worried look to her. “Does it look bad?”

Pepper blinks, shaking her head. “Not at all. Just unexpected.”

Darcy shifts, feeling oddly exposed. Pepper sits them both down on the couch, watching her closely.

“So, uh, what brings you here..?” Darcy finally asks after a pregnant pause. Pepper gives a tight smile, eyes sad.

“I haven’t talked to you about the... results,” she says quietly. “Too much has been going on. But when Tony returned from Philadelphia, he tore in here to get a sample of, well, anything. I think he ended up with your hair? To confirm it.”

The dreaded ‘it’ hangs heavy in the air and Darcy turns away, wrinkling her nose. Suddenly, her hairbrush on the kitchenette bar with the photo frame makes sense.

“I told him it doesn’t matter,” she states firmly. “I said the same thing to Steve, to Bucky, to Natasha. Hell, I’ve told _everybody_ it doesn’t matter.”

Pepper frowns. “Why?”

Darcy blinks.

“What?”

“You have an answer to a question that you’ve likely had your whole life. Why does it not matter?” Pepper repeats.

Darcy pauses. She hasn’t allowed herself to think about it too much. As she looks at her father’s Match, a sharp pain of shame stabs her, knowing that her staunch refusal to even address it is punishing Tony for something mostly out of his control. 

_No, all out of his control, if Mistress Death manipulated it this way._

Darcy thinks of when Steve had approached her about their mark. She had immediately denied Steve their connection, thinking he wanted nothing to do with her, assuming the worst of the situation and herself. A horrify dawn of realization hits her and she brings up her palms to her forehead to groan softly. She’s doing the same thing to Tony, just with the connection of his paternity, because she didn’t want to deal with the fallout if he _did_ reject her.

So Darcy had pushed Tony away before he even had a chance to offer kinship. She wouldn’t hear his apology, as unnecessary as it was, but his attempts hadn’t been false. He’d tried a hell of a lot more than she had. And she knows how hard it is to get an apology out of Tony. 

Darcy’s face scrunches up as she tries to keep her emotions in check.

“I don’t know how to be that person, Pepper,” she finally whispers. “How to be a Stark. _Tony_ is fine. We chum around okay, and don’t seem to annoy each other too much. But him being dad sounds pretend. I’m 27, not 7, he can’t flounce in and save the day. It’s too late for that.”

“Don’t you think you’re being just as unfair on yourself as you are being on Tony?” Pepper asks.

“What do you mean?” Darcy replies, feeling uneasy.

“Do you want that 7-year old's desire for a dad to come to save the day? Or do you just want to accept someone who is just as uncertain about all of this as you are? Are you disappointed that it’s him?”

“ _No_. It’s not _his_ fault,” Darcy refutes firmly. “Gah, Pepper, you don’t know how much you’re helping him right now, being Matched with him. Titan was horrifying, him being nearly the last one as everyone - even that Queens kid! - dust around him. I don’t know how he’s still handling everything somewhat coherently... that has to be you grounding him.”

Pepper’s eyes narrow as she tilts her head thoughtfully. She gives a slight nod.

“In any case, it’s okay for you to not be sure, Darcy. But don’t lash out at him because you’re unsure. _Talk to him_.”

Darcy sighs, focusing on releasing the tension away at the concept of holding that conversation. Finally, she nods.

_Hopefully, I’ll have a minute to do that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH IT DROPPED! What do we doooo?


	16. Chapter 16

“Is this a good idea?”

Bruce’s soft murmur registers in the back of Steve’s mind as he rests his head back against the couch he’s seated in, eyes closed. This is the first moment in days he’s felt to just _be_ and breathe and he’s organizing his thoughts before he gets up to check on Darcy. Bruce’s comment must be directed at Natasha, as Steve has already heard the others leave with their various tasks leaving him and Rocket with the pair.

“What do you mean?” Natasha’s tone is brisk.

“Thor’s power is immense and I’m grateful he’s so... resilient, but he’s rather, erm, imprudent,” Bruce sounds uncertain and it prompts Steve to lift his head to glance over at them. “He arrived on the battlefield to jump into the front line. If something happens to him after transporting us to this new planet and we’re stuck there...”

Steve can see that Natasha had been doing her best to brush Bruce off before his comment as she turns to send him a scrutinizing look.

“What would you suggest?” 

“I don’t know, Nat, doesn’t it seem risky to you?” Bruce shifts nervously. “Wouldn’t it be safer to take a ship, even if it takes longer?”

“Safer?” Rocket jumps up while he interjects, chuckling under his breath. “Three weeks through Thanos controlled space, in a craft unable to accommodate everyone since the _Benetar_ is jacked up and, again, stuck in Thanos territory...”

“And there’s no guarantee that the ship would arrive in one piece, or not be destroyed before or after we landed,” Natasha adds in.

Bruce’s face gets a pinched look, visibly uncomfortable with the prospect of delving back into space at all. “I know Thor is more than us ‘mere’ humans, but he can still die, right?” he asks.

Rocket frowns, scratching an ear with a paw. “Maybe? Gamora seemed rather excited at the prospect of his build, but we did find him in the dead of space and that didn’t seem to phase him. And there was the whole taking a brunt of a neutron star broke him down but he was fine after Stormbreaker came to him...”

Natasha sighs, pinching her nose. It’s the most frustration Steve’s seen her display in a long time and Bruce looks taken aback by it.

“What are your thoughts, Steve?” she calls over to him. “Do you find it as much of a suicide mission as Bruce thinks?” 

Steve shrugs as he stands up. “I don’t like the idea of being moored on the planet if Thor is separated from us, but what other choice do we have? A strike directly to Thanos and bypassing all the dangers of a cross-country expedition has lower risks.”

“Not that it’s a quiet landing, Thanos will know the moment we’ve arrived,” Rocket adds in. “I mean, getting the gauntlet is a suicide mission no matter how we show up.”

“I’m not worried about the _showing up_ , I’m worried about the _getting home_ ,” Bruce grumbles, crossing his arms. "Which could be hard to do if Thor is incapacitated or killed or, I don't know, kidnapped in a van that said 'Free Candy'..."

“Thor seems as indestructible as you, Bruce,” Natasha murmurs, glancing up in a considering way. “It’s not like you can die, as you’ve tried repeatedly in the past.”

“ _Not like I can die?_ ” Bruce’s voice sharpens in anger. Natasha seems impervious to it, surprising Steve. He knew she had held a fondness for the doctor, and her callous attitude was uncharacteristic. Natasha seems almost... detached. 

“I wasn’t having a moonside vacation on Sakaar, Natasha, I was caught in a feedback loop of Hulk’s mind for _two years_. What about that sounds pleasant to you?” Bruce spits out, beginning to pace, agitation riding his features. It’s unfamiliar to Steve, as Bruce had always been a grounding force of the group, his vigilance of keeping Hulk in check with his zen.

“What sort of force are we to expect on Zen-Whoberi, Rocket?” Steve pulls the conversation to something more productive. Bruce rubs at his face in an attempt to calm down and Steve can see the man reciting a mantra internally.

“They were a primitive race before Thanos showed up. A good bulk of their population was living in huts and the like. He brought more technology to their planet, which has prospered since then due to the industry the planet now supplies. I’ll go bug Nebula about who we can expect in the way of deadly force. Could just be Chitauri or Outriders or some more of his ‘children’,” Rocket shrugs, heading for the door. “Hey, computer lady, show me how to get to Nebula?”

“Help Rocket out, please, FRIDAY?” Steve adds, unsure of how the AI would respond to the talking raccoon creature. FRIDAY dutifully illuminates a path for Rocket to follow, who exits the same way Tony and Nebula had moments before.

“If it wasn’t for you, Natasha, I’d still be stuck on Sakaar,” Bruce’s anger has dispersed with his voice dropping into a softer murmur. Steve feels an awkward tension ratchet up in an instant.

“I can’t imagine how,” Natasha refutes in a mild tone.

“A recording of you. I guess you sent a lullaby when Hulk was stuck on the Quinjet in stealth mode, trying to get me to bring it down?” Bruce says, looking as frazzled as ever with mussed up hair but his expression is grim.

“That day in Sokovia - Hulk heard it. I heard it. But it’s probably the first time we’d ever agreed on anything and decided to ignore it. As much as the big guy is a pain in my ass, every time he wakes up, it’s to pain, screaming, violence. He’ll do his part, to smash, jump, wreck. But that moment on the Quinjet... it all went silent. No one was screaming at him. No one wanted something from him. No one... anything,” Bruce whispers out. “For the first time, he savored the silence.”

“So the lullaby doesn’t work?” Steve asks. Bruce ignores him and continues.

“After Hulk had his years of fun... and Sakaar was fun because he was accepted for who he was. He was lauded for his work. Then Thor found him and those few, precious few, friendships he’d made there... Well, they were put in a different light after Thor came around. So he followed him to the wreckage of the Quinjet, and there your recording played once again, to a different audience. We both heard you once again and I found the rope to take control.”

Bruce sighs, shaking his head. Natasha’s lips are pursed in concern and Steve can’t help mirroring a similar expression.

“So going to this planet, with us all assuming it’s a one-way ticket... If I can even convince Hulk to come out and fight again, who’s to keep him with the team? Are you all going to try to wrangle him back, amidst fighting who knows what else and Thanos? This planet could be another Sakaar for me and that concept is _terrifying_ , Natasha,” Bruce finally ends.

“Do you want to stay behind?” Natasha asks, mulling over his words.

“No. This world is hell and I don’t want to remain here if I could make a difference,” Bruce shakes his head. “I just wanted to be clear of my concerns. If this mission goes awry, I won’t be throwing away my _life_. I’ll be throwing away my humanity.”

* * *

Mulling over the conversation in the lounge, Steve sighs as he makes his way to Darcy’s room. Bruce’s concerns are valid, but he’s not sure other alternatives are any safer. They only have the one shot to get the gauntlet, and if that fails, it’s unlikely to matter if they can make it home or not. Steve’s only consolation for Bruce is the possibility of Tony having something the man could wear on their journey to keep Hulk unnecessary for as long as possible.

The thought makes his body deflate. Bruce was always an asset to their team, but with the knowledge that Hulk would appear as a fail safe. Knowing that that could mean the end to his friend brings entirely new problems to plan around. Steve feels a bone-weariness seep down into his very core, tired of how grim the situation is from their perspective. He’s mulling over the dangers ahead when he turns a corner to find Pepper walking towards him from the other direction, concern written all over her face.

“Steve,” Pepper greets quietly, looking sad. “It’s good to see you.”

“Pepper,” he nods, pausing.

“I hate to be abrupt but did Tony tell you what happened off world? When Darcy was awake?” she asks, brow furrowing in concern.

Steve shakes his head.

“No, just how he and Nebula took shifts piloting on their way back. The only reason I know the name of the planet Tony ended up on is that Thor took us there,” he replies. “Found Rocket’s old ship there, but all we could see were signs of a fight and... ghosts. Why?”

“Darcy knows something about it. She told me about Peter - that’s the Spiderman teenager that followed Tony into space - dusting. She wasn’t even in the Tower when Tony told me that in front of Natasha and Clint. How would she know about it?” Pepper’s voice is strained, obviously worried as she uncharacteristically wrings her hands together.

Steve blinks, realizing he himself heard Darcy scold Tony with ‘ _have you slept at all since Titan?_ ’ almost immediately after waking up.

_How did she know about Titan?_

Pepper continues. “I don’t know if it’s important, as she seems strangely vulnerable right now, but I thought it’d be best if you were aware. You are on your way to see her, right?” 

“Yeah. Nebula was vetoed leaving right away. We’ll regroup later after we’re all rested,” Steve replies.

“I best go find Tony then,” Pepper says, a weak smile accompanying her nod as she steps away.

Steve finds himself taking the rest of the steps to Darcy’s door, but refrains from knocking. His mind is spinning with the information of Darcy somehow knowing about Titan. About whatever Tony suffered there.

_What else does she know?_

Darcy’s entire demeanor had been reluctant, not wanting to speak to Thor about the plane shifting. Were her abilities more than that, something more dangerous perhaps, and she didn’t want to tell them in case they worried? Her eyes, shimmering with those colors that Steve has only seen in the edges of the portal that once ate her up and the transportation glow of the Bifrost. Did she really not know what caused the change?

Steve pinches his nose, leaning against the wall next to the door. He isn’t sure he should go in there with suspicion lining his thoughts like this. Darcy had a way with dismissing concerns if she even acknowledged them. Usually, this wouldn’t worry him, but with how wounded she is he feels uneasy.

“Hey,” Valkyrie appears at the end of the hall, walking straight to him. Her arms are overloaded with various food items, such as snack cakes, chips, and little blue boxes. Steve straightens in response to her approach.

“You going in or what?” she asks, giving him an unimpressed look. “She doesn’t need any more trouble, you guys gave her enough trouble earlier.”

“I know. Thank you for pulling her out of there,” Steve says sincerely, mentally berating himself for being so suspicious of Darcy. She’s sick, the seizures giving her no reprieve after he left.

“Yeah, well, she’s been a mess since I met her and I can only confirm one instance of her actually sleeping. So I don’t know why you were all stressing her out, arguing over nothing, if you supposedly care about her welfare,” Valkyrie glares at him. “But I suppose it’s a common enough struggle of being Matched with idiots of your type. Unfortunately, I expect Darcy would much rather have a visit from you rather than me.”

With those words, Valkyrie begins unloading the boxes into his arms before he can protest.

“I don’t care what you _think_ is important right now. You will let her rest and recover for at least one bleeding day,” she hisses under her breath before knocking abruptly on the door. With another glare of disapproval, Valkyrie turns and storms down the hallway out of sight.

Steve gets a moment to blink, marveling at the items in his arms before the door opens. Darcy appears in the doorway, surprised for only a moment before her face brightens and Steve feels the air rush out of his lungs as he looks at her.

Despite her looking like a strong gust of wind could knock her over, she’s beautiful.

“Hi,” she says softly, surveying his bounty. Her hair is slightly damp, and while her eyes are rimmed with redness and tired bags, she looks a bit recharged. Steve feels that same rush of guilt, knowing how unfair it is for them to bombard her with questions while she’s still ill.

“Hey. Uh, hungry?” Steve asks weakly.

“Starving, come on in,” Darcy pulls on his arm, a small smile growing on her face. Following her in, he dumps the items on the kitchenette bar, noting the picture frame left there. A glance is all he needs to know it’s her with her mother and grandparents. Darcy must be around three years old in the photo, a riot of dark hair haloing her young face as she clings to her mother.

Darcy immediately busts into a box, splitting open the foil to get some sort of tart out of it, popping it into the only thing on the counter, a toaster. Steve blinks through this process.

“I know, I know, Wakanda had opened its eyes to the world and was integrating all the wonders of the outside world into their society, but Pop-Tarts were inaccessible for some reason,” Darcy’s lips grow into a sad smile, as if not blaming Wakanda for the lack of culinary delights. “I really should probably have something more nutritious, but I’m just so tired. So this comfort will have to do.”

“I could have gone on a run for them if you’d let me know,” Steve points out. “It’s not like we were exactly stuck in Wakanda.”

“Sounds like a waste of resources and I already owed them too much,” she argues with a slight shrug. 

_No, I owe them too much. You were only dragged into this mess because of me._

Steve holds the words on his tongue, watching her find a plate as the toaster pops up. Darcy places them on her plate before snagging his arm, pulling it over her shoulder as she leads him to the couch. Plopping down, he finds himself arranged on it with her leaning into him as she takes small bites from the hot food.

“Oh, guh, these are like the unhealthiest of snacks but I haven’t had one in so long,” Darcy murmurs as she snuggles into his side. “Was it bad when Valkyrie and I left?”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, not expecting the question.

“It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but Pepper calmed everyone down. As you said, it doesn’t pertain to the upcoming mission and we should focus there. Looks like we’re going to head out and try to hit up another planet we think Thanos is on. Rocket’s contact gave us the info and the woman Tony brought with him confirmed it,” Steve explains, trying to avoid specifics.

“Nebula?” Darcy asks, nose wrinkling. “What makes her an authority?”

“I guess she’s an adopted daughter of Thanos. She’s convinced her sister was sacrificed for the Soul Stone,” he replies, trying to stay relaxed despite a rock of concern sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Steve knows Tony threw out Nebula’s name at their reunion after Darcy woke up, but he still has an itch of misgiving.

Darcy chews on her lip as she nods without hesitation. Her unwavering acceptance makes a strange feeling hit Steve that she already knows that information.

“So where is the planet we’re going to?” she finally asks as she finishes her snack.

“We?” Steve asks, surprised at her inclusion. Darcy snorts.

“You went scouting for Thanos and Tony. Well, Tony is back and I bet Nebula is right. So, you’re all going to go traipsing for the gauntlet and I’m not about to let you go alone. You think I am going to stay here and knit?”

Steve cringes at the term, familiarity pricking his mind, and picks at the crocheted blanket over the armrest he’s leaning against. Jane had screamed a similar sentiment at Tony weeks ago.

“I don’t know why you’d want to come. We don’t know what we’re going to encounter...”

Darcy’s mouth flattens into a line.

“I don't think I can stand it if I’m not there. Even with the galaxy wide texts you were sending Natasha, they took hours for her to receive them. If you all died... we would only know with our marks. We wouldn’t be able to do anything. Who’s going to explain that to whoever here who’s left? Their families? Pepper? I could be logistics while you guys go avenge or whatever,” she says. “Keep the engine running or something?”

“Natasha’s working on the logistics right now. I don’t even know if we’re going to have any sort of ship. Hopefully, we won’t be there long enough for that to be necessary, Darcy. We don’t know what we’re looking at for hostiles on the planet. You’d just be a liability.”

Darcy sits up, glaring.

“Excuse you, I’ve been in quite a few world ending situations to know how dangerous it is and how to stay out of the way. I can take care of myself,” she says through gritted teeth before standing up to tidy up her plate.

“I know that, Darcy. I’m not saying you’re not capable, I’m saying that I’m not able to operate the mission efficiently while worrying about you,” Steve replies softly as he stands. Darcy tosses her plate in the sink with a bang, standing with her back to him as she leans against the counter. “Before Thanos arrived, I could push aside my concern for you because our world was safe. Now our world is broken, Darcy, and you’re injured and I...”

Steve breaks off, knowing that while he’s expressing some of his thoughts, they aren’t enough. The words have a basis in his deep-rooted fear that he Matched with a woman to lead her to her demise. Steve spent so much of his life throwing himself into dangerous situations, assuming he’d never meet his Match, assuming it was all a mistake. Now that his Match is confirmed with Darcy, his fears are being legitimized by the hell she’s being put through because of him. The least he can do is keep her from being stranded on an alien planet if he failed.

_Failed yet again._

Darcy sighs, rubbing her head. Her entire body seems to sag with the weight of the last few weeks. He decides to forge on with information, knowing that it can’t hurt to let her at least know where they’re going.

“It’s a planet named Zen-Whoberi,” Steve says, trying to set aside his fear of her trying to come along. Stepping closer to her, giving her the chance to brush him away if she’s genuinely still angry at him, he wraps his arms around to hug her from behind.

Darcy gives another sigh, drooping against him. He brushes a hand over her hair and she twists around to look up at him with a worried look.

“When do we go?”

_Stubborn woman._

“We agreed to meet up tomorrow afternoon. Some of us need to sleep, as little as we want to. Tony obviously traveled the farthest, I don’t know how much it drains Thor to use the power of the Bifrost, or if Bruce has gotten any more rest than you,” he replies in a quiet voice. “And since Thor is our transportation, it’s not like Tony can bully him into taking us right now.”

“Bifrost again?” Darcy asks sleepily. “Everyone wants to ride the rainbow roller coaster, huh?”

“Yeah,” he forces a weak smile, shoving down the feeling of foreboding in his gut while he tugs her to the door that has to be her bedroom.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” he murmurs. Once inside, they undress lazily and fall onto the bed, Darcy pulling him along with her. The room feels lived in and homey, despite the many vacant months. She lets out a yawn, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over them. Steve wraps her up in his arms, her instantly snuggling closer.

“I missed this. Missed you,” she whispers, before sinking into exhaustion against him. He’s slightly impressed she was able to finish her snack with how quickly she succumbs to sleep.

_At least I can keep her safe._

Steve sighs as he squeezes her carefully close to him, relishing in the soothing comfort of her presence. Guilt eats at him, his memory a problematic thing as he closes his eyes and can see with such clarity the memory of his friends falling to pieces. Apart from coming back home when Darcy was apparently in trouble, he’s just been dead weight.

The feeling of uselessness crawls along his skin.

“I love you,” Steve whispers into her hair, knowing she’s far too tired to hear him. Thinking of her in the midst of all the strife he’s been privy to through his travels, the violence and the fear, only pushes the decision sitting in his mind.

_I hope you can forgive me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is very very late. This chapter got into my head and I just struggled a lot with it. Then between all the holiday festivities (I count something like 10 events I had or have to fiddle with in some way in this three week period) and my mom being hospitalized, I just wasn't in the right (write?) frame of mind to work on it. Now things have settled I've come back to work more.
> 
> There's a lot of restructuring I need to do coming up, but I'm feeling optimistic on my motivation levels. Captain Marvel is only a sneeze worth of time away, and I want to be done by then. :)
> 
> Hope you all had a lovely December.


	17. Chapter 17

_Darcy finds herself in a large atrium, dozens of tall purple people in medical garb helping the hundreds of people laying on the ground in various degrees of illness. A spike of fear hits Darcy hard, uncertain of how she’s arrived at yet another realm without meaning to when Mistress Death appears next to her. She’s looking far more healthy than the one Darcy has met before, a svelte being, cloak of shimmering stars flowing around her as she shakes her head._

_“Do not worry, Darcy. You will return with no ill effects.”_

_“Am I really here?”_

_“No, this is a, hmm, recollection? Something like a memory?” Mistress Death looks thoughtful before casting an arm out. “They cannot see us. Do not worry.”_

_“And you’re showing me... Titan?” Darcy asks, noting how everyone has a general resemblance to footage she’d seen of Thanos. No one seems to notice her or Mistress Death as the being nods towards a boy who is about Darcy’s height but looks at most ten years old._

_“Behold, the beginning,” is her comment. “Thanos.”_

_The young Thanos is leaning over a bed with a woman on it. She looks very ill, coughing uncontrollably into a bucket, but Thanos watches past her with a stoic face. The woman calms down enough to give a breathy sigh, trying to catch her breath._

_“What is wrong with her? With everyone?” Darcy asks. She notes that not everyone seems to be coughing blood like the woman._

_“Mostly mass starvation. In his mother’s case, it weakened her immune system to the point where she was left vulnerable to an incurable disease. The doom of his planet had been solidified decades before his birth. Later, his ‘solution’ to sacrifice half of the world to save the other half would be futile.”_

_Thanos looks past his mother, focusing on the two of them, which causes Darcy to glance behind her nervously. There’s just more sick people and medical staff working behind her._

_Darcy turns back to Mistress Death, watching the otherworldly being walk forward between the beds. The young Thanos is looking directly Mistress Death and her perusal of the various titans, who she’s leaning over to touch their foreheads gently. Darcy doesn’t need any tricks to see the souls, one by one, escape their bodies into the Mistress’ hand._

_Darcy glances back at the young Thanos, whose eyes are lit up in delight._

_“He can see you?” Darcy asks as she scurries closer to Mistress Death, alarmed._

_“Children have been known to see me, especially around almost certain death, so yes, he saw me,” Mistress Death mutters as she tucks the souls into her cloak. “And this moment ultimately led him to this...”_

_The scenery of ill people dissolves into a rather small house in a barren field at the tilt of Mistress Death’s head. Darcy can hear the yelling inside the building._

_“What do you mean you don’t want the gift, you ungrateful wretch? Get back here!”_

_Thanos bursts out of the building, a little older than before, running out into the field without looking back. The titan that appears at the doorway shakes his head in frustration before turning back into the home. Mistress Death nods her head and Darcy finds herself propelled next to Thanos, the boy suddenly by a floundering creek with a small switchblade._

_He begins to hack at his skin on the side of his calf._

_He’s **furious**._

_Blood is everywhere, dark chunks of flesh hacked off hurriedly. Darcy can taste blood in the air, can feel the spray of it against her hands, can hear the torment of the boy’s anger, can-_

Darcy wakes to a sharp intake of breath, sitting up instantly as she holds up her hands. She half expects the purple blood to be there, sinking into her nails as she feels the same sort of frantic need to claw at her own body.

_Could you tone down the fucking theatrics, Mistress Death? Why the fuck did I need to see that...?_

Blinking furiously, she grabs at her chest as she breathes deeply to slow her racing heartbeat. Glancing down at the space next to her, she expects to see Steve. He usually would be laying with an arm thrown over his face, only slightly sleep addled and adorable like past mornings before the horror of the apocalypse began. 

But the other side of the bed is empty.

Darcy tilts her head, ears straining through the silence for any hint of life in her suite. That same eerie sensation of everything being a dream hits her. Did she imagine Mistress Death and Thanos and she’s late for work with Jane? Did Jane have a lousy day previously and would accept the excuse of being late with a cranberry orange muffin if Darcy popped down to the nearest bakery?

_No, that life is gone._

She confirms this by holding up her wrist, seeing that her mark is there, yes, and it’s still glowing with that small star.

“Steve?” she whispers out, knowing if he is in the suite he’d hear her.

Silence.

Understanding shoots through her mind.

“ _No!_ ” Darcy jumps up, throwing on her pants and stuffing her feet into flip-flops, snagging a long sleeved hoodie to hide her glowing wrist as she darts through her living space to the hall.

“FRIDAY? Where is Steve Rogers?” she demands as she zips up the hoodie.

“Captain Rogers is on Sir’s landing platform, Miss Lewis, with the rest of the team,” FRIDAY informs her promptly.

“No, no, _no_. You all wouldn’t fucking _dare_ ,” she mutters to herself as she rushes through the hallways. Too impatient for the elevator, she begins huffing it up the stairs, taking two at a time. Bursting through the door, she runs down the corridor past Valkyrie who frowns at Darcy’s frenzy. 

Darcy pushes through the door into the outdoor area that’s somewhat destroyed. The original six Avengers are all standing at the end of the landing platform, with an additional blue woman that Darcy assumes is Nebula and Rocket in the midst. She catches Steve’s resolute face in between Natasha and Thor, who throws up his axe.

“ _No!_ ” Darcy yells again, running towards the light that blooms there as fast as she can. She feels someone grab at her arm to keep her from jumping straight into the Bifrost blast. 

“I need to go, _I need to go with them!_ ” she shrieks, fighting the person who holds her back. But the Bifrost closes and they’re gone.

Darcy feels a sinking sensation yank down from the back of her head all the way down to her toes. It causes her to fall to her knees, her equilibrium challenged as she focuses to stay aware.

_Ah, yes, the feeling when Steve leaves at fucking lightspeed._

She looks down at her arm, seeing the strand that pulses from her mark stretch and stretch and _stretch_. It seems so precarious, Darcy feels a stab of terror at the idea of it snapping. _Can you break a Match with distance?_ Darcy isn’t sure. She decides to focus on the fact that Steve has left before, and while she’d usually pass out over the ordeal, she’s doing far better this time than the other episodes.

She’s still coherent and she feels surprisingly focused despite the sinking feeling in her gut. Her body isn’t overreacting to the stress, and there is no pain despite the sheer pervasive despair she’s struggling to pack down.

“I need to go with them! What if they don’t come back?” Darcy cries out, still huddled against the ground. She turns to the person who was responsible for keeping her from jumping in, finding Valkyrie, who looks unimpressed.

“Jumping into that beam without Thor knowing would _destroy_ you Darcy!” claims Valkyrie from her kneeling position next to Darcy.

“What?” Darcy spits out with a wave of reckless anger.

“Dark Energy powers the Bifrost and Thor has to _channel_ it! Do you understand how difficult it is to be aware of each entity being transported and build a bridge to your destination? A small mistake and the others could fall off the edge of the Bifrost or drop into the well of Dark Energy that makes it!”

Darcy gapes for a moment. “That’s what Thor is doing? I thought...”

“Thought what? You could just be a stowaway?”

Valkyrie looks beyond angry but still grabs Darcy’s hand to help her up. “You think I wouldn’t have jumped in after you, after them, if I could have?”

Darcy feels a new flare of anger fan up underneath the embarrassment of her stupid inclination to jump straight in. She turns and walks back into the building to bark up at the ceiling, Valkyrie following her in. Taking a moment, she considers what her next step should be since she is cut off from the mission.

_Find Wong._

Dr. Strange’s words had been muddled over the yowls of the shadow beings that had attacked her. Wong presumably had mystical training, so he could guide her on how she could perhaps keep her body from fritzing out when she vacates it. Darcy already feels much better about Steve’s distance, the stretch turning into a mild annoyance, but figures it can’t hurt to ask for tips.

“FRIDAY? Do we have an address for Dr. Strange?” 

“The New York City Sanctum is is Greenwich Village, Miss Lewis,” is the swift reply.

“Did Strange have any known associates?” Darcy continues, ignoring Valkyrie’s confused look. “Didn’t he have a pal that was involved in the scuffle with that alien?”

Darcy knows she’s being vague, but FRIDAY is state of the art and has no trouble finding the information, promptly replying.

“A ‘Wong’ also resides at the Sanctum’s address as far as our records show.”

“You bet your cybernetic ass he does,” Darcy grumbles, heading towards the elevator. Valkyrie follows her into the small room and Darcy eyes her. 

“Do you think I should stay, too?” she asks as she jabs at a button furiously. 

Valkyrie eyes her with an unimpressed look.

“As much as I hate that they left me as well, you’re not trained, what did you expect to do? It’s _Thanos_ , for fuck's sake. He would crush you without a thought.”

Darcy snorts.

“He wouldn’t,” she refutes. “He’s already broken half the universe, taking another life now would break his philosophy.”

“He’s also mad,” Valkyrie points out. “And I’ve met quite a few insane rulers. My shield sisters fell to one.”

“Wait, shield sisters and brothers is a real thing?” Darcy blinks at the concept, distracted.

“What, you thought Thor was being glib? Of course, it’s a thing, although no men were allowed in our ranks so shield ‘brother’ is incorrect. But before I was the last Valkyrie, I was simply Brunnhilde to my many shield sisters. Then we fell to Hela, giving King Odin the time to imprison the Goddess of Death,” Valkyrie states, countenance growing more and more severe. “I only survived due to Liesel’s sacrifice.”

Darcy purses her lips together, not sure if the Hela goddess is the same as Mistress Death or not. Hela sounds like she was bent on dominion, and, assuming the otherworldly being Darcy’s met isn’t a liar, Mistress Death seemed focused on surviving the decay of the universe.

The elevator dings as the doors open and Darcy walks out with a determined step to her room. Valkyrie follows her, as if not trusting what she’s going to do. Once Darcy is inside, she leaves the door open for Valkyrie and begins sifting through her things for her phone.

“FRIDAY, can you send me an address for the Sanctum to my phone? I need to speak with Wong.”

“Who is this ‘Wong’?” Valkyrie asks suspiciously.

“Works with a wizard. I expect he has similar training, so maybe he’ll help me get a handle on whatever this plane shifting shit is. I’d rather stop seizing at the moment my brain is overloaded,” Darcy shrugs, changing quickly and pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Granted, I didn’t pass out when Steve left just now, so progress. Woohoo.”

“What if that other man attacks you again?” Valkyrie asks. “I can’t help you if you’re in another plane.”

“Hopefully Wong can help me. Maybe even teach me how to kick or something,” Darcy mutters, not really sure what to tell the other woman. “I mean, at this point, everyone is going to teach me something. Natasha got me throwing punches, which went very well with the punching bag Steve showed me how...”

The thought trails off, the anger surging through her again at the thought of Steve leaving her.

_He had no right._

“Darcy?” Valkyrie asks, uncertainty in her eyes.

“Yeah. I’m here, I promise,” Darcy rubs her temples a moment, trying to ignore the tug on her mark that seems to be getting tighter. “Are you coming with me, or am I going alone?”

“Ha, like I wouldn’t come. It’ll be fun to see a Midgardian wizard,” Valkyrie grins as if expecting a challenge. Darcy snorts.

“Don’t expect it to knock your socks off. Dr. Strange is dusted, and he’s supposedly the best there is.”

* * *

Clint isn’t sure what he expected when they said they’d be heading towards an alien planet. But the fact that the landscape looks bizarrely familiar to any myriad of places he’s had missions on Earth in his life surprises him. The trees have shed most of their leaves as if autumn is in full swing, but a cloying smell on the wind contradicts it. Clint expects a cleaner chilled air to inhale.

So Natasha had been characteristically right about researching the planet beforehand. The time they took to prepare had been helpful as everyone else rested. Rocket had been invaluable with his information about Zen-Whoberi, as his star chart was a convenient thing, and they are all wearing the warmer versions of their tactical gear.

Nebula frowns as she glances at the ground and shuffles some dirt around with her toes.

“What is it, Nebula?” Tony asks, eyeing the woman in concern.

“The ground is wrong.”

“Care to expound on that, Bonnie Blue?” Tony continues which causes Nebula to roll her eyes and walk away. Rocket points a device to the ground and shrugs.

“Dirt isn’t just dirt anymore, I’d wager she’s sayin’. Look,” Rocket points the device at a shrub that is bent over. “The plant is dying. Most everything here is. Dirt’s dead, so the plants are too.”

“Any idea why?” Bruce asks, looking a bit unusual with a junior version of an Iron Man suit on his chest and arms. He kneels over to look over a plant and pinches a leaf that instantly begins to crumble. “What the-”

“No fucking clue,” is Rocket’s response.

“While that’s fascinating, can we get going?” Clint mutters to the group, watching as everyone explores the surroundings, each finding evidence of the decay of the environment. “Looks like the information was good, Nat, look there’s the crest from the map...”

Natasha looks off to where Clint is pointing and nods.

“Any idea what is going on with that?” Bruce asks, pointing up at the sky. There are hundreds of crafts drifting idly, the sheer amount of them littering the heavens. Clint squints as he can see a bit of motion between a handful of them, apparently still mid-battle, and he notices Bruce hold up his arm to try to get a better reading of it. One of the crafts seems to crack in half, being pulled into the planets gravity as it begins its fiery descent through the atmosphere. 

“Looks like others have been coming for Thanos and his forces have been holding them back,” Thor mutters. “Rabbit?”

Rocket looks at his pad and nods. “All sorts of clans are up there, but who knows what they’re up against. That, folks, is why we didn’t just fly here since it looks like they’re all fighting themselves... but why would...?”

“Maybe the Reality Stone?” Tony asks somberly. “Bend reality to make everyone seem like an enemy. We saw something of that kind of power on Titan, right, Nebula?”

Glancing around, the blue woman is gone.

“Shit,” is Tony’s comment as they all look around. “I thought she’d have learned that the more of us, the higher the chance of success.”

Rocket snorts. “Fat chance, that woman doesn’t know the meaning of teamwork. Hell, it took escaping prison to break Gamora in. I wouldn’t worry about Nebula, she’ll crop up when she needs something.”

Clint isn’t so sure but continues to adjust his pack on his back without comment. He nods at Steve and Bruce as the pair goes with Thor and Rocket, the group beginning to hike the steeper direction that should aim for Thanos’ camp from the north. Clint and Natasha would follow a tamer terrain to try and swing up from the south. 

Tony is fiddling with his suit, glancing at Clint and Natasha with a strange tension. “All set?”

“Sure, Tony. You?” Clint asks in return.

“Peachy,” is the response as Tony’s helmet slides over his face and he blasts off. Natasha and Clint start walking in the same direction, the tamer terrain easier to cover ground.

“How did Lila take your leaving?” Natasha asks after a few minutes. Clint shrugs.

“Gave me a tight hug and then let me know they were exploring one of the floors that Pepper said they could remodel to whatever they wanted. I’d say I’m surprised by how nonchalant Lila is about everything, but Pepper’s working on keeping them busy,” Clint says, knowing that everyone is looking for distractions, especially for the children. An entire floor of the Avengers Tower being remodeled into some sort of kid haven sounds like a perfect project. Natasha nods.

“Pepper has been running herself ragged between the relief efforts, trying to clean up areas of the city and hand out aid, while coordinating with Rhodey in D.C. That project for the girls is practically fun in comparison. Lila and Cassie will be helpful in keeping the rooms relevant for their ages, while they fill a need for all the newly orphaned children in the area,” Natasha states.

“Glad they’re focusing on other things,” Clint responds. He’s a bit concerned about what will happen if he can’t fix this. Lila’s steadfast faith in him is more helpful for him than the little eight-year-old knows.

“She asked me about my mark,” Natasha says quietly.

“What? Why?” he asks, hit with a sudden foreboding feeling of being a shit dad. He hadn’t even thought to _check_ Lila’s mark, a small ornate symbol on her left rib, similar to where Laura’s had been.

“She didn’t want to worry you. She noted our conversation about my mark bleeding and wanted to make sure that her Match isn’t ‘all the way dead’.”

Clint hunches over with a wheeze, imagining his baby girl hiding in a bathroom, bandaging up a goddamn wound that he was too fucking distracted to even think about.

“It may be why she’s not particularly concerned for Laura or her brothers, yet. If even we, the strongest people she knows, are affected the same way... then it’ll get fixed and we’ll all live happily in the Tower once this is over,” Natasha finishes, pausing her stride just long enough for Clint to recover and begin to follow again.

“Do we have any idea how to fix this?” Clint asks. “Getting the gauntlet is one thing, but do we even know how to operate the damn thing? Do we even know how he combined the stones to even cause the populations to dust? Are any of us - or all of us if we’re ‘chained’ together - strong enough to revert it?”

Natasha frowns as if she’s been mulling these questions internally and is annoyed at being reminded of them.

“We’ll have to be,” she says. “If they’re not dead, that means our friends are lost. And we can't leave them like that.”

He stares at her a moment, realizing she’s avoiding his gaze.

“How was Barnes in Wakanda?” Clint asks, testing the waters. He isn’t sure of what she feels about the revelation of her Match if it even ends up being true. 

Natasha sighs as if knowing the conversation is inevitable.

“Better. Shuri had worked with some of the therapists there that had experience with wartime PTSD and triggers. He’d been making good progress. He split his time between working on a small farm outside the city - the slower side of life, they said - and missions with Steve. Even went on a couple missions with me,” Natasha says softly. “Nothing particularly difficult, downright mellow in comparison to some of your and my old objectives. But we never spoke of before.”

“Before when? Berlin?”

“Any of it. There were times when we would spar, and we’d trade off anticipating each other's movements like years ago in the Red Room.. like we were dancing...” she admits in a whisper before continuing with a stronger voice. “I didn’t think of how that could be construed when we trained. I did think he might remember something of our past... but no. We’d end the practice and he’d leave. I never pushed him. There was enough pressure on him from other angles.”

Clint hums under his breath. They continue for about another quarter of an hour before they find Tony, standing on a rock glancing with a furrowed brow at the horizon. An open field and a line of trees spread out about 100 paces in front of them.

“I’m getting some strong readings coming our way. They’ve been increasing and they’re continuing to increase just standing here,” Tony states. “So, _yay team_ , the gauntlet is confirmed to be here. But Rocket was right - our Bifrost arrival was a giant beacon of ‘someone’s here to fuck with your day’, so it looks like he’s coming to us.”

Clint sees Natasha pulling out a device to presumably alert Steve’s team to cut down the mountain towards their location. 

“Well, at least we didn’t have to scour an entire planet. Should be home in time for dinner,” Clint jokes, not sure what to expect. The photos of Thanos had been all from afar, and the scale made him seem about the same size as Hulk. While Clint can theorize on how to shuffle around Hulk, he’s not so confident against the titan, considering the success of the madman’s devastating plan. Their briefing had been specific about Thanos’ involvement even years ago, sending Loki after the Tesseract to open that portal over New York, and Clint is wary of any enemy so meticulous with their attempts to subjugate a planet, let alone ruin the universe.

Tony’s frown deepens as Natasha points at the treeline in the distance.

“Is that Nebula?”

Clint squints, and sure enough, the blue woman just appears out of the treeline running straight towards them. She’s _fast_ , much faster than Clint expects, and there’s a sack strapped across her chest with something heavy bouncing on her back.

“Tony,” Clint says. “Please tell me she didn’t.”

Tony looks lost for words, staring at the woman making her way in quick order across the field. A burst of angry sounds comes from the treeline as they stand there.

“Pretty safe assumption at this point,” is Natasha’s unhelpful remark. Nebula makes it up to them and promptly jumps around them to continue running. Her lack of comment is more terrifying than if she’d said something.

“Fuck,” Clint says, turning with Natasha to follow the blue woman as Tony blasts up and away. He hasn’t even seen the enemy at this point and his adrenaline is pumping fast.

_Well, I guess that answers on how easy it’ll be to get the gauntlet if Nebula quietly snuck in and **stole **it.****_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Steve was sneaky beaky. Poor buddy's brain is just haywire with fear for Darcy.
> 
> My thoughts on the Bifrost and Thor's use of it is based off a pre-Thor 2 comic page that my friend shared with me. I'm just going to pretend that Bifrost Basics is a class that all the Asgardian military were required to go through so that they didn't do anything fucking stupid while being transported around the Nine Realms. Not really pertinent, but my thoughts nonetheless. :)
> 
> Hope you all have a lovely weekend!


	18. Chapter 18

As the elevator door to the ground floor opens up, Darcy hops out of the lift before yelping and jumping right back in. “Goddamnit...”

Valkyrie eyes her like she’s utterly perplexing. “What is it?”

“I forgot about how badly the world went to shit,” Darcy mutters, peeking back out. Past the small section of elevators, the lobby is filled with Stark employees coordinating with military personnel. “Shit, shit, shitshit.”

“Who are they?” Valkyrie asks as she peers over Darcy’s shoulder.

“Judging by the number of firearms, it looks like a military checkpoint. And, uh, the last time I exited the country, I was branded a traitor or conspirer or some other bogus thing. Not to mention your rather extraterrestrial tourist status. FRIDAY?” Darcy asks up at the ceiling. She shifts nervously as she realizes how conspicuous it looks for them to dally in the elevator.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“Am I still an enemy of the state?”

“Affirmative. Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes argued for you to be taken off of it, but the Council denied them. Your actions in Norway with the confirmed connection with Captain Rogers-” FRIDAY explains in a mild tone when Darcy interrupts her.

“Fuckers,” Darcy mutters. “How many checkpoints are there from here to the Sanctum?”

“Two, not including the one in the lobby of the Tower.”

“Well, I need to see Wong. What do we do?” Darcy asks Valkyrie who shrugs.

“One moment, Miss Lewis,” FRIDAY says as she closes the elevator door. She quickly takes them up before depositing them on the 6th floor. Darcy peers out, seeing a blank hallway.

“Third door on your left, Miss Lewis,” FRIDAY instructs. The pair of women leave the elevator and knock on the aforementioned door.

The door creaks open and a round-faced man with a slightly bulbous nose pokes his head out. “What? What is it?”

Darcy blinks, glancing at Valkyrie. The man is wearing an anxious expression, sandy hair in disarray.

“Er... FRIDAY sent us-” Darcy begins and he adjusts his glasses to squint at her. Suddenly, he opens the door widely, motioning for them to enter. As they step into the dark room filled with monitors, he shuts the door.

“It’s _you_. Yeah, okay, Ms. Potts mentioned something about you being back but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with that info. I thought she was just warning me that she’d beckon me up to her office or something. _No one_ comes here. Honestly, I thought they forgot I worked here, let alone survived the Dusting,” he rambles, shuffling through giant file boxes he has stacked up in corners.

“Who, uh, are you?” Darcy asks.

“Name’s Bob,” he states, grimacing again as he tosses a box to the ground. “No, not this box... I know I stuffed them here somewhere...”

“I’m Darcy.”

“Yeah, I know. You’d think they would know better than to entrust me with these things,” Bob says as he pulls a myriad of folders out of another box, piling them on a table. “Ah ha!”

Triumphant, he pulls out a large manila envelope and unfolds the opening. “When you went to ground months ago, Stark had me build these for you.”

Upending the envelope, dozens of IDs spill out of it, shiny and new. 

“What the hell?” Darcy exclaims as she picks up one to inspect. The photo on it is a doctored version of her Stark Industries staff photo and the name reads ‘Matilda Craft’. Valkyrie grabs a couple, reading off the names.

“‘Isabella Greer’? ‘Sophia Wiggins’? ‘Autumn West’? How many names do you need, Darcy?” she asks.

“Never can have too many,” Bob says. 

“I mean, yay, I can leave, but wow, what the fuck, Tony...” Darcy mutters before turning to Bob. “Did you make all of these? Why?”

He nods. “I’ve got the system practically automated with FRIDAY now. She’s a rad A.I., able to emulate the most official of seals. And Stark didn’t give me a reason. Who am I to argue with him when he gave me a job?”

“Can you make one for Valkyrie here?” Darcy motions to the woman. Bob nods, stepping over to the desk and typing quickly.

“We have a card printer all set up. Five foot... eh, five? Close enough. Brown hair, brown eyes-” he mutters to himself. “What name you thinkin’?”

* * *

The air is brisk against Steve's lungs as he takes in the terrain. They've been hiking for a while, edging along the cliff, following the information that Bruce feeds them. Rocket takes this moment to give a bit of information about the planet.

"The locals - Zenhoberei - aren't exactly the most advanced people. I think their quality of life improved because of Thanos' coming, but not because of his solution of killing half their people. He brought so much technology they'd never even seen before," Rocket says. “Funny how the asshat managed to bring prosperity here, despite the crushing dominion of it all.”

“Did your crewmate talk about her time with Thanos?” Steve asks, catching glimpse of a road in the far distance with a handful of green-skinned people with dark hair.

“Gamora didn’t like talking about herself, period. But she was always quick with a warning if he was involved,” Rocket replies, beginning to climb up a tree. Steve watches him adroitly jump from limb to limb.

“I’ll scout ahead, I blend in better!” Rocket calls behind him, going out of sight. Steve can’t refute the point and Rocket is gone too quickly for Steve to argue against it anyway.

"How did Darcy fare after she left with Valkyrie yesterday?" Thor asks Steve, falling in step with him. “I did not have the opportunity to speak with her as I wanted to before we left.”

“She seemed better. I’m hoping that she rested well since she only lasted a few minutes after I arrived before passing out,” Steve replies.

“Darcy hasn’t had a restful night of sleep since you left, Steve,” Bruce says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t see the connection to her mark with you beforehand. It was practically slapping me in the face...”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, that uneasy feeling flurrying in his gut.

“I couldn’t figure out why her condition had worsened so suddenly. She shouldn’t have fallen comatose when taking a minute to rest or just after telling Ross’ men to piss off. I mean, I don’t know her very well, but she seems to have seen a hell of a lot before any of this. Never been a record of her being hit with ‘the vapors’ or anything. For her to take such a deep dive probably has to do with your lack of proximity. You saw how quickly she improved when you returned, almost like you’re grounding her,” Bruce explains. “Granted, a lot of this is guesswork, but when you left us in Norway, did you feel anything unusual?”

Steve remembers that moment of the Bifrost departure very well. The exhilaration of passing so quickly through space had been overrun instantly by the sinking feeling of nausea pulling him down. Like a muscle that was weary and stretched too tightly, as if it could shred at any moment. He rubs his face in concern.

“Yeah. I felt like something inside was being pulled apart very quickly, like a strand of taffy,” he sighs. “I felt it when we went to Krylor as well. And, of course, a while ago when we arrived here. Is it abnormal?”

Bruce blinks as if not expecting the question.

“Uh, no? There have been numerous studies on the effects of distancing Matched pairs. It’s not uncommon at all for them to feel ‘stretched’, but it’s usually gradual since our transportation is relatively slow. At least nothing like the speed of the Bifrost. But we saw how fast she improved when you returned, even if it was in bursts,” Bruce replies.

“Why isn’t Tony crawling up the walls in discomfort then?” Steve asks, a bit perturbed at being so clueless to presumed mechanics of Matches.

Bruce snorts.

“He is. He just recognizes what it is. It’s almost daily for him and Pepper if he needs to emergency fly out to Malibu, or she needs to catch a flight to London. However, since we don’t know the nature of her injuries, I am concerned that Darcy could relapse if we take too long.”

"I fear she may be angry that we left her without giving farewells," Thor adds in.

Steve sighs, the guilt swirling around in his gut with worry for Darcy. He knew she wanted to come and completely disregarded her wishes. The changes in her are unknown variables he can't predict and he knows with a strange certainty that she’s hiding something. Secrets usually ended in disaster in Steve’s experience.

“She insisted she was coming with us,” Steve mutters, stepping over an overgrown root. “But I can’t risk her getting hurt again. The whole situation around our Matching and that she was targeted specifically... it’s all my fault.” 

Thor gives him a look that Steve can’t decipher. Bruce is merely shaking his head.

“I cannot say I do not understand as I chose a similar path,” Thor admits. “But you disservice your Match as much as I did my own when such a time came.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, eyeing his friend.

Thor seems to mull over his next words, pondering how to explain.

“The last time I saw Lady Jane was sometime after I said goodbye to you and Stark in New York after Ultron. I had a longstanding promise to her to say farewell whenever I would leave Midgard. Jane is voraciously intelligent, so when I explained to her my quest of searching for the stones, she didn’t try to dissuade me. She had her own ghastly understanding of the stones because of her time with the Aether. Jane simply grabbed a bag and began to pack small items into it. In those moments, I discovered how silence could be a sword. A sword of terrible silence that cut into me, knowing this beautiful woman would come explore the stars with me. To know she, who had been fated for me after many centuries of life to find her, would relinquish her current life of ingenuity to aid my perilous journey. To know the chances of her possibly returning one day - unchanged or unharmed - would be nigh impossible.”

Thor pauses, expression resigned. Steve knows how the story ends, but feels a sobering sort of recognition in Thor’s tale.

“I said farewell. The silent swords turned into words, of her railing against the cosmos, against Matches, against me. How the universe could be so cruel to give her the stars, but then take them away. I knew there was no defense I could satisfy her with, so I walked to her door. She stopped me for a moment with these words...” Thor’s voice pitches lower as if he doesn’t want to say them, “... _‘every time, you hurt me. If you leave me again, you can’t come back. I can’t let you hurt me anymore.'_ ”

“And you left,” Steve finishes.

“I left,” Thor agrees. “I knew nothing of what could happen in my journey forward, it could have been centuries before I returned. I mourned the possibilities, but I could not steer from my destiny. I was gifted with a vision to put the universe to rights, so I had to depart. It is not fair for her to wait for me if she may never see me before she grows old.”

Steve frowns, the thought of aging not having occurred to him before. He knew the serum had buffed him, made him stronger and resilient. Not even the Arctic could kill him, and he is uncertain if he _can_ age.

The thought is sobering.

_Will Darcy still want to be with me even if I don't grow old with her?_

Shaking the thought from his head, Steve sighs.

"I'm sorry, Thor," he says meaningfully.

"It is quite alright, my friend. I am not entirely sure I was incorrect. My quest has sent me down many dark paths. Meeting my homicidal sister, losing my eye, destroying my home, bringing me to Thanos directly who murdered my... it is quite a burden to bear, and the only assurance I have that we can put this current crisis to rights is my mark bleeding all over the ground. At that moment, I knew we will restore the universe. We must," Thor states. “I did encounter many foes in my journey - my people are nearly extinct! Jane was safer on Midgard.”

“She _was_ ,” Steve sighs, stressing the past tense. “You think she’s alive someplace else?”

“Do you not feel the pull Lady Darcy shares with you right this moment? I know with all my being Jane is someplace else, I simply have to release her.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Bruce adds. “It is different from before, but even I feel a certain faded connection to my Match.”

“Did I meet your Match? I don’t remember you mentioning her before,” Steve replies. Darcy knowing about Bruce’s Match before him had been jarring, and the idea that Bruce had a Match all this time is foreign to Steve. It made Natasha’s attention to the man all that more confusing. Bruce shakes his head.

“We parted ways many years ago. I knew it’d be best,” Bruce says. “At the time, I was a shadow of myself, terrified that Hulk would overtake me. I knew I’d never offer her what she needed.”

Steve frowns, an uncomfortable thought niggling at the back of his head.

_What she needed._

Steve realizes that he’s just one of apparently many who seems to thinks he knows best for what his Match needs... without taking what they want into account. Jane had snubbed him for weeks before finally softening, but one of their first conversations pops in his mind.

_“...as someone who’s been left by a man of your **ilk** , I think I have a unique perspective on this whole... thing.”_

Glancing at Thor and Bruce, as they trek through the mountainous woods on an alien planet because of a horrific mission to save half of the universe, he realizes the depressing thought that Jane’s not as unique as she claimed. The two men he’s with had left their Matches on their notion of doing what was necessary. No wonder Jane had shunned Steve Matching with Darcy.

He assumed Jane disliked him merely from being so closely affiliated with Thor. He’d not considered her disliking him for his sense of honor, the very thing he was downright accoladed for everywhere else. While Jane had warmed to him by degrees, it was an apparent effort in regards to Darcy, not for his actual self. Jane had avoided him, vastly preferring to stay in the labs with Shuri and instead choosing to befriend Sam and Bucky.

_Sam had no mark and Bucky’s was lost with his arm. They weren’t about to put her on a shelf and tell her what she ‘needed’._

Steve internally groans with the knowledge of Jane’s consistent irritation with him had been a warning. Darcy will be downright _furious_ , and he understands rightly so, even if he chose this path with good intentions. It didn’t - still doesn’t - make sense to him to bring Darcy, but she was entitled to her own opinions and should have had the opportunity to convince the rest of the team.

Which is why he’d lied to her by stating a different departure time and left before she could argue. Steve knew she could have been successful and it terrified him to think of her being here on this planet, vulnerable.

_I made this decision with fear, like all of my other mistakes._

He’s interrupted by this line of thinking by an alert buzzing at his hip. He notices Thor and Bruce stop as well.

“What is it?” Steve asks Bruce, knowing his system will pop up with the information instantly.

“‘The gauntlet is loose, divert south now’? What, did it sprout legs?” Bruce reads, looking confused.

“Well, I guess we’re heading south then,” Steve says, turning to the cliff face, pondering the best way to jump down in safe stages. Rocket, obviously closer than they realized, drops from a branch to land gracefully on Thor’s shoulder, who startles a bit.

“Well, let’s go then. There’s only a settlement that way and unless you want some casualties, we probably should steer clear anyways,” Rocket says, pointing in the direction behind him with his thumb as he reads off his pad. They all begin to slowly scale down the mountain face.

* * *

Darcy isn’t sure what to do with her bundle of nerves as she exits the Tower. No one stops them, as they’re only carding people going in, which concerns Darcy more as they’ll be even further away from potential safety if her card doesn’t work.

Valkyrie palms her ID card they got from Bob moments prior, shaking her head. “So how likely am I going to have to fight our way back if these fail?”

Darcy turns an alarmed look towards Valkyrie.

“ _No fighting!_ As far as they know, you’re just a random lady from out of state who got caught in New York at the wrong time. If you start punching people, they’re going to pull out reinforcements, subdue us, and _ask questions_ ,” Darcy hurriedly explains in a hiss. “Then it’s only a quick detention cell till they figure out you’re affiliated with Thor.”

Valkyrie wrinkles her nose but nods. “Makes sense, yeah.”

“It’s unlikely anything will happen anyway. FRIDAY has access to a lot of governmental systems due to the number of military contracts Stark Industries is involved in, so she’d flag anything concerning. If somehow we do get pulled, Pepper would come for us.”

“And what would they do if we are stopped?” Valkyrie asks. 

Darcy thinks of the short time she was a guest at one of Ross’ facilities and shudders. “I expect only detainment, but who knows. I don’t know Ross’ agenda besides the endless harping on signing the Accords. The man he sent to Norway didn’t even mention if signing would clear my name or not, not that it makes any difference. I doubt even Ross knows. Probably would depend on Steve coming back.”

Valkyrie hums thoughtfully as they approach their first checkpoint. Darcy takes a deep breath, forcing herself to relax.

_Act like you belong._

As they reach the multitudes of military personnel that are checking IDs, Valkyrie gives a beguiling smile to the man who scans the card without glancing at the screen. Darcy let’s out a breath of relief as their presence is readily accepted and they pass through.

Glancing around, she isn’t sure what to make of New York that feels oddly devoid of people. Realistically, Darcy knows that it should remain fairly busy, as the population should still be around a couple million people. But it still feels strange, walking along deserted streets before coming upon a queue of people waiting for either access to another area or supplies.

“These sorts of lines normal?” Valkyrie asks, eyeing the people they’re passing that are waiting in queue for a solid two blocks.

“Nope. I can ask Pepper what’s going on about this all later. At least there isn’t any direct looting? People lose their minds during natural disasters, so at least whoever is left in charge isn’t burying their head in the sand,” Darcy says, glancing at the patrols walking around. There are only a few storefronts open, their inventory looking picked clean.

“You sure do pack a lot of you all here, don’t you?” Valkyrie asks, eyeing the buildings above her in curiosity.

“And you didn’t on Asgard?” Darcy replies, studying her phone. Yup, heading west till they hit 5th Avenue and straight south. Oddly simple, considering how vast the city always felt to Darcy.

“I suppose there was definite space to expand, but most of our architecture was due to more flounce than necessity. You’ve been to Asgard though?” Valkyrie asks, glancing around in a way that Darcy realizes is her scanning for threats.

“Nope. Heard about it though. My friend went a couple years ago,” she responds, shrugging.

“Your friend?” Valkyrie asks.

“Dr. Jane Foster,” Darcy states, a stab of confusion hitting her. She’s not sure what Jane is anymore but hopes they can fix it soon so she can come home. Like hell is Darcy going to leave Jane in that limbo with shadow demons.

Valkyrie tilts her head. “Why was she in Asgard?”

“What, you don’t know about Jane?” Darcy asks with surprise. “She went with Thor. The Aether possessed her a few years back and he took her up with him to have your healers look at her. Odin tried to boot her off the planet.”

“That’s not much of a surprise,” Valkyrie snorts. They come to the corner and cautiously cross the street, aiming south.

“It was a whole long thing. Dark Elves and some Convergence doohickey and I don’t even know, I knew nothing until they came back to London. But Jane loved Asgard and I found it terribly romantic that her Match gave her a trip to the stars that she loves so much,” Darcy sighs, feeling bereft of Jane.

“Her Match?”

“Thor?” Darcy gives Valkyrie a confused glance. “Now I know you’re bullshitting me, I know he has a mark, I’ve _seen_ it.”

“He may have. It’s never come up,” the other woman responds. “I just didn’t realize it was with a Midgardian.”

“Talk about a long distance relationship, right? But I don’t know how marks are handled in your world. Do you have a Match?” Darcy asks. “Sorry, it’s considered rude to ask that so plainly here.”

Valkyrie shrugs. “Asgardians are not nearly so delicate. But I did.”

Darcy sighs.

“I’m sorry that you lost them,” she says honestly. “Was it recent, or..?”

“I spoke of Liesel before,” Valkyrie says in a quiet voice. “After my sisters fell, I left. I wasn’t going to be a part of the destructive cycle of the royal family any longer. I didn’t hear of Asgard at all after I landed on Sakaar.”

“So that’s when you met Hulk and Thor?” Darcy asks, the connection clicking to a conversation with Bruce hours after the dusting. She feels a bit ashamed for not knowing more about Valkyrie, her friendship being invaluable in the short time they’d been together. Valkyrie nods.

“I thought I was invincible. If the only thing that could fell my kind was Hela, what’s the worst that could happen? So I left and I found out how far the Nine Realms didn’t reach. I was promptly deposited onto Sakaar and slapped with a scrapper designation before I got my wits about me. Then... I stayed. It was a new shithole, but one without reminders of my previous life.”

Darcy nods. She knows about starting a new life after home becomes too haunting.

“When my mom died, I found I couldn’t be in my childhood town any longer. Too many memories,” she offers. Valkyrie nods and they fall into a companionable silence.

They pass through the second checkpoint without a glance. Darcy is kind of surprised how straightforward it is. She expected at least a small inquisition of where they were going and why. Darcy had prepared a whole story about visiting an old foster parent in Greenwich.

_Why does it feel too easy?_

“So how is Wong going to help?” Valkyrie asks after they continue from the checkpoint.

“I don’t know,” Darcy says without thinking. “Strange just told me to find him.”

Valkyrie tilts her head. “How do you know Strange, then?”

“I don’t, he dusted,” Darcy says, distracted by their approach of Washington Square Park. She can see some of the wreckage of the fight that she’d seen on TV before Steve had left to look for Wanda.

“He told you after he dusted?” Valkyrie continues warily, eyeing the deserted park. It permeates with an eerie silence. It is evident that people are avoiding the area.

Darcy startles as if realizing what she just admitted, shooting an alarmed glance at Valkyrie. The Asgardian woman pauses, giving her a concerned look.

“What are you so scared to tell anyone?” Valkyrie asks baldly.

Glancing around, Darcy sees the area is deserted and sighs. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Says who?”

“Dr. Strange,” Darcy mutters, knowing she can’t unring that bell. “I don’t know why, but he was adamant about keeping quiet about my, uh, journeys.”

“Why?” Valkyrie tilts her head as they continue walking. “We figured you were plane walking. What difference does it make if you met some stragglers on your path?”

“Because it could ‘destroy everything.’ He wasn’t specific. He said he couldn’t be,” Darcy edges around, desperately wishing she could just burst out with _I saw everyone, they’re still alive, we can reach them._

Valkyrie seems to ponder this when she holds her hand up to stop Darcy from venturing into the park.

“What happened here?” Valkyrie asks, eyeing the felled trees and torn up landscaping.

“Er, this is where Thanos had some of his minions try to get the Time Stone from Dr. Strange. Spotty news cameras got footage of Tony and Spiderman scuffling with those asshats that came to Earth. Our side went up into the ship that abducted Strange,” Darcy explains, feeling oddly informed due to the feed of sensationalized news she’d seen at the time. “The minions were gone by the time anyone deemed it safe to come by.”

“Something’s wrong,” Valkyrie frowns.

Darcy looks around and notes the chunks of messed up concrete and cars pulled into a pile by the back entrance that they’ll have to figure out how to get around. She shrugs.

“Is anything right anymore?”

“Indeed,” a voice interrupts and Darcy immediately tenses, spinning around. 

“Mordo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneaking in a bit of HydraBob, which was more fun than I realized. XD The idea of him being hired on at SI tickles me to no end.
> 
> But I finished this chapter ages ago until I realized... well, the world went to crap, there's no way people would just be wandering around like nothing happened. Imagining that level of disarray was really difficult, and there's a bunch of small things in this that I'm not super happy with but I've gone too far and wouldn't change it anyways. Oh well.
> 
> I've never been to New York, but Stark Tower and the New York Sanctum both have legit fake addresses on the wiki, which is kind of rad that you can map it out.
> 
> Happy Friday!


	19. Chapter 19

“What do _you_ want, Mordo?” Darcy steps closer to Valkyrie who is glaring at him.

Mordo stands next to a tree, a reasonably pleasant expression on his face. Darcy feels a sinking sensation that she _may_ have fucked up, speaking so freely with her companion. Mordo appearing feels too convenient with her previous confession to the Asgardian.

“This is the fucker that caused the explosion in Norway?” Valkyrie demands, eyeing him carefully.

“Sort of,” Darcy mutters, shuffling with Valkyrie around the man with a wide berth.

_If we get to the Sanctum, Wong could help._

Darcy isn’t particularly worried about her physical safety. Even without knowing the extent of Valkyrie’s skills, Darcy knows the woman is a badass and will keep her as safe as possible. No, Darcy instantly wonders what sort of bullshit trickery the man could throw at them. She’s oddly reminded of Loki, Thor’s spinning tales about his brothers spells in such fantastical ways that she’s warier of Mordo’s otherworldly talents than his physical ones.

Except Loki always seemed chaotic with charm and Mordo is dangerous with purpose.

“Is that what she told you? Tsk, what a liar you’re turning out to be, Darcy Lewis. Would your Match approve?” Mordo’s words are meant to dig at Valkyrie’s trust in her, but the woman isn’t having it. The women are almost to the opposite park entrance, barricaded by cars which Darcy begins to hop up onto to get over them. She winces at the reference at Steve and hopes Mordo doesn’t notice it.

“Pretty sure we both think you’re full of shit, Mor-dude. I don’t have a gripe with you, despite you trying to kill me, so let’s just pretend we didn’t see each other,” Darcy replies. Valkyrie glances at her a moment, looking unhappy with their position.

“Were you following me?” Darcy asks. “I mean, I was in Norway. How did you know I was in New York?”

“Since your _shocking_ defense in Norway, I thought it would be good to keep tabs on you. It’s simple enough to track you if it wasn’t for your revolting perversion unraveling spells by the very minute,” he bites out, looking frustrated. “So it required a few extra steps...”

“Spells unraveling?” Darcy can’t help but ask, the man’s words far too raw to be untrue. “You think I did that?”

Mordo tilts his head. “If not you, the incident involving you. Your mark is far more than any I’ve seen, and only true evil has the power to mark us with their power. Who are you drawing your power from? I’ve seen the power of Dormammu, so it’s obviously not his, but there are myriads of options. Why must you fight with such evil?”

“ _What fight?_ The only fight I’ve had is with your unhinged ass throwing glowy swords at me. Which I only survived because I have a strong mark with my Match,” she states firmly.

“ _Liar_ ,” he hisses in reply, a short staff appearing at his side suddenly. Darcy manages to keep her expression mild, knowing how broken Mordo’s logic is. Valkyrie has a grim look on her face, eyes darting around as if searching for something and back to Mordo once again.

“I also don’t want to fight. What would I fight with? A crochet hook?” Darcy forces a laugh, shaking her head. “I am just really fucking unlucky, Mor-dude. Not the harbinger of destruction you seem to think I am.”

“You cannot deter me, Darcy Lewis. All of you aberrations have tried, but I have _stayed the course_ ,” Mordo hisses, stepping towards them with purpose.

Darcy immediately starts scrambling over, Valkyrie following closely. They get over the blockade of cars just in time for Mordo to slam his staff down onto one.

The car begins to dissolve, an ominous hiss as the steel begins to melt.

“What the fuck, Mordo!” Darcy yells as she begins to run. She isn’t sure where she’s running, just as long as it’s away from the dude with the melty stick. She can hear his boots make a strange sound as he clears the cars far quicker than them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Valkyrie mutters under her breath as they run.

“What.. is.. it?” Darcy pants out, turned off course and uncertain of where the Sanctum is.

“Wish... I had my... sword...” Valkyrie shakes her head and grabs a broken pole off the ground, kicking off the sign attached to it. “I’ll manage! Find Wong!”

The woman stops and spins around. Darcy can only glance over her shoulder a moment, seeing the staff in Mordo’s split into longer orange segments like a whip which Valkyrie rolls to avoid.

_Fuck!_

Darcy paws at her pocket, trying to grab her phone as fast as she can to bring up the GPS, but her hands are shaking and she’s terrified to slow down even if she can hear the blows of the weird staff-or-whip weapon slapping around at the ground. The consistent beats of it hitting the ground are the only reassurance that Valkyrie is holding her own, keeping Mordo from following Darcy too quickly.

Turning a corner, Darcy sees the familiar architecture of the building to her right, a bizarre sense of deja vu hitting her as this was the road in that vision she had brought to Wakanda. The building is stately despite a giant blue tarp covering the broken window and she runs towards the door.

A wave of relief hits her as she’s about to run up the steps, but she miscalculates in her panic and trips on the first stair. Darcy puts her hands up to break her fall but still manages to faceplant right into the front door.

Dazed, she spends a few moments pushing herself onto her back, the seconds passing in a confused muddle. Squinting up into the bright sky, she can hear the door open and the face of an unimpressed Asian man peering down at her.

“Wong?” Darcy blurts out the panicked question to the disapproving man hovering over her, the fear pushing the thought past the pain of her faceplant into a door. “Strange... sent me... Mordo... attacking...”

The man she presumes to be Wong frowns deeper and steps over her. Darcy stands up while rubbing her throbbing nose, following Wong around the corner where she can see Valkyrie jab at Mordo’s knees with her pole. The woman rolls forward suddenly, as if hearing the hiss of the orange staff through the air, the motion to Mordo’s knees discarded at his counterattack. His staff whacks the empty ground instead.

Wong approaches the pair flurrying in an intricate dance that Darcy has trouble following, his weapon appearing in his hand, a rather thick looking wand. Wong jabs it in front of Mordo’s next attack, causing Valkyrie to jump back, uncertain of the newcomer. Darcy remains a safe distance away.

“Is this your answer to our crisis? Murdering innocents in the streets?” Wong growls out low in his throat. Mordo has a moment of surprise before scowling, pointing his staff at Darcy.

“ _She_ is not innocent. _She_ is marked with evil - see how her eyes glow!” Mordo hisses back. “She would not be here if she did not want to pervert the Sanctum. My Staff of Living Tribunal is unraveling its spell power _as we speak_. It did not use to inflict such devastating effects until I met _her_.” 

Mordo launches a flurry of attacks, causing Darcy to step back as Wong and Valkyrie jump around him to keep his movements from getting too close to her. The staff and wand clash together as Mordo successfully manages to kick Wong away. Wong recovers and spins his hands in a quick motion, a portal appearing out of nothing behind Darcy. He launches himself at her to push her through it before she can register what's happening.

Darcy yelps, not expecting to be thrown into a different room so suddenly, finding herself on the ground of a musty looking library with all sorts of strange items in it. A beat passes and Valkyrie rolls through the portal, which Wong instantly closes.

Darcy feels a breath of relief hit her, thinking they successfully have gotten away from Mordo with a fortunate lack of injuries, but it’s short lived as the crackle of a new portal opens and Mordo steps into the room. Valkyrie grabs the first bladed weapon that she sees off of a shelf, a sword with runes etched into the metal, as Darcy scrambles to get on her feet. 

“Really?” Mordo asks, looking annoyed. “You would even bring her here to protect her?”

Wong glances back at Darcy, gaze assessing, before nodding at Mordo.

“She is innocent. Even I can see the markings upon her have been inflicted unwillingly. She did not choose this,” Wong refutes, shaking his head.

“She _communes_ with evil! She admitted it!” Mordo yells, brushing past Wong to try to strike Darcy. Wong’s wand comes up to whack the staff away. The momentary distraction gives Valkyrie the opening to jab her sword right at Mordo’s throat, holding it there a hair’s breadth away from his skin.

“ _Leave her alone_ ,” Valkyrie growls. “Or I’ll behead you where you stand.”

Darcy startles when Mordo steps away, a howl of laughter escaping him. It seems to confuse both Wong and Valkyrie and he uses the distraction to swing around and smack Valkyrie’s sword to the side. She dodges being hit by the staff, but it opens up her position for Mordo to slam his entire body into her chest. Darcy can see Valkyrie’s silvery soul push past the boundaries of her body.

“No!”

Darcy instinctively throws herself forward, using both hands to shove at Valkyrie’s bright soul back into her prone body. Valkyrie is momentarily stunned, the planes shifting back to reality for her just as quickly as she exited it, and Darcy drops her knees to pull Valkyrie onto the ground with her.

“...wasn’t expecting that,” Valkyrie mutters, readjusting her grip on her sword as Wong darts forward to deflect Mordo’s next strike.

“Yeah,” Darcy replies shortly.

“She has _Asgardians_ at her beck and call. How is this not sorcery? She has no training. What evil did her master put on her to pull such loyalty?” Mordo chokes out between the bitter laughter as he parries Wong’s attack. “You know she cannot continue!”

“I was worried he’d pull out some dirty trick in the fight to win,” Darcy grumbles. Taking a glance at Valkyrie as they both stand again, the woman seems fine to Darcy.

Wong throws out his wand, a blast appearing at the end where he flings it, which causes a chunk of wall to collapse. Mordo dodges around it and climbs up in the air with his boots dancing on orange steps that appear and spins to kick Wong away. Wong goes down.

“You are a conundrum, Darcy Lewis, and should not exist,” Mordo states as he stalks over to her and Valkyrie. “It’s my purpose to eliminate you.”

“Well, your purpose is shot to shit if you failed so spectacularly by _abandoning your friends_ so the Time Stone could be taken,” Darcy hisses back as she sits up, glaring up at him. “Perhaps Strange wouldn’t be _dead_ now if you had been here instead of hunting irrelevant people like me.”

Mordo’s mouth gapes open, eyes darting to Wong’s similarly surprised face.

“And before you call me a liar again, Tony Stark confirmed it. Tony was the only survivor after doing _your fucking job_.”

“You spoke to the Asgardian of Strange being dusted. You lie when it fits your purpose,” Mordo refutes.

“Dusted, dead, what difference does it make? He’s gone,” Darcy replies.

“He would never give up the Time Stone. He would have known how to avoid it.”

“Tell that to half of the dusted goddamn universe. You think that wasn’t possible without your precious stone? Some steward _you_ were,” she hisses back.

There’s a moment of silence as Mordo visibly wrestles with her words. 

“ _You speak your evil master’s words_ ,” he finally growls, swinging his staff around his shoulder in a quick move, but Darcy is expecting it this time. He’d used a similar move in Norway and she can feel the protective force pull in her wrist as she braces her arms to meet it.

A crash of sound hits their ears as Darcy meets his strike with the shield that appears from her mark. Mordo anticipates the move, however, throwing more weight into it which causes her stance to weaken. Valkyrie takes the opportunity to spin around and slice Mordo in the inner thigh, a howl escaping him as a gush of blood bursts out from the wound. She wastes no time in kicking his feet out from under him and flinging herself onto his chest to hold her blade at his throat.

“Valkyrie!” Darcy kicks his staff away from his hand. The moment is charged as Mordo looks like he wants to continue fighting, but Darcy can already see a generous amount of blood leaking out of his leg.

“He _reeks_ of death,” Valkyrie spits on the ground next to his head. “Just like Hela. Should we not send him with her?”

Wong kneels to look at Mordo’s leg, shaking his head. Darcy puts a hand on Valkyrie’s shoulder. Tilting her head, she can see darkness lining Mordo’s soul. It reminds her of the decay that Mistress Death had shown her.

“He’s been tainted, Valkyrie,” Darcy states. Wong twists his hands to form an orange rope that he immediately begins to wrap around the top of Mordo’s thigh in a makeshift tourniquet.

Squinting, Darcy reaches out to touch Mordo’s chest who snarls.

“ _You will sully me like-!_ ” he begins to protest and Darcy pulls back.

“No. I won’t do anything without your consent. But you act like the demons that hunted me elsewhere, an inconsolable need to _destroy_ , and yet I’m the tainted one? Just what did the death of the Ancient One _do_ to you?” she asks, sighing.

Mordo looks wildly around, Valkyrie pushing the blade to his throat as a warning.

“I yield! I will leave peacefully. I will verify your claim,” Mordo bites out, sweat lining his brow as his body struggles to keep from going into shock. “But I will not hesitate to kill you if I see you again.”

“Mor-dude, did you actually hesitate this time?” Darcy snarks back, pulling Valkyrie off Mordo before the woman can protest. Wong opens a portal which Darcy can see a rather sterile looking background, a hospital room of some sort. Pulling Mordo through it to dump him unceremoniously on the ground, Wong grabs the phone from inside the small triage room and pokes a few buttons.

That finished, he looks down at Mordo and shakes his head.

“You were our friend. But your path is inexcusable,” Wong states in a mild voice before stepping back through the portal and closing it.

Darcy looks down, her hands shaking with the rush of adrenaline. She has no doubts about Mordo’s success in killing her, especially after watching him against Valkyrie, if he ever managed to find her alone.

_God, I won’t be able to sleep again._

“Where did you take him?” Darcy asks Wong. He shrugs.

“We have an arrangement with a doctor at St. General for... incidents. He won’t harm her, and she’ll give him the treatment he needs without being surprised by any, hmm, magical elements.”

Darcy must look baffled at there being such a thing as a neutral ground doctor being privy to their magical struggles, but she brushes it aside. She can’t get her hands to stop _shaking_.

“Hey,” Valkyrie kicks her foot, holding out a small flask.

_Where the hell...?_

“The hell did you pull that from?” Darcy asks before tipping a small sip down her throat. The Yllidien brandy burns with a comforting familiarity and she’s careful not to overdo it this time. A slight fuzz overcomes Darcy and she feels her hands relax.

“Never you mind,” Valkyrie tucks it away, eyeing Wong. “So he’s the one you wanted to meet, yeah?”

“Strange is truly gone?” Wong asks with a stoic glance, ignoring Valkyrie’s comment. Darcy nods.

“I mean, he’s not _exactly_ dead, but he’s enough dead to get Mordo to fuck off,” she mutters. “Strange mentioned that Mordo, or others, could ‘fracture’ everything if I was too carefree with details. Then he told me to find you.”

Wong emits a grunt.

“Still taking shortcuts, I see,” he says in exasperation. “What can you do?”

“Er, the Asgardians call it plane shifting. I sometimes pop out of my body and caught Mordo’s attention when I fell out one too many times. I... can travel from there, and see people I guess he thinks I shouldn’t,” she mutters, not sure how honest she can be. “I feel like I’ve got a handle it now, with shoving Valkyrie back in her body just now after Mordo knocked her out. Is that a common tactic for you guys?”

Wong frowns but nods.

“We call it Astral Projection. That is one of the reasons many do not tangle with Masters of the Mystic Arts,” is his bland reply. “Strange had a talent for magic, and with our conflict with Dormammu... well, Stephen did not say much, but I could tell how much he’d learned in his ‘time’ there. The only other I’ve seen more powerful than he is now was the Ancient One, so he was possibly stuck there for centuries. It’s odd that he sent you to me, however, without any other instruction. I am curious how you came into the ability to go into the Astral Plane with no training. Can you show me right now?”

Valkyrie watches the interaction with a bored look, but Darcy knows she’s more suspicious of Wong than she’s letting on. Darcy pulled his name out of nowhere and the only thing in Wong’s favor is his staunch defense against Mordo.

“Er, I can try,” Darcy says, standing up and flexing her fingers. Focusing, she can feel the edge of their reality. Wong nods before pressing on her shoulder and Darcy can feel the disconnect happen.

With renewed focus, she yanks that same feeling backward, pulling out of her body suddenly. She watched Valkyrie jump forward to grab her before she crumples to a heap on the floor, Darcy’s arm glowing slightly.

“Impressive. It usually takes months of study to manage it, unless you’re particularly proficient,” Wong’s voice carries a dulled edge as he speaks to her. His soul is slightly pushed forward out of his body, watching her spirit dangle in the air.

“I do not know what you wish for me to teach you, however,” he continues. “You seem fairly proficient without my help.”

“Is my body freaking out right now? That’s the problem. My soul jumping ship is fucking over my brains functions,” Darcy points down at her body’s form, which is fortunately still breathing but is senseless.

Wong shakes his head.

“I do not know if this is different from your previous experiences, but your body is currently reacting as we do when we shift into the Astral Plane. It’s only in the long term you should need spells to maintain your body, but Mordo did not lie. Spells are unraveling. Half of the books in the library have broken into dust, the spells keeping them preserved are slowly failing,” he explains. 

Darcy nods, searching for the familiar feeling of siphoning herself back into her body. A moment later and she finds herself back in her body where her soul belongs. Her eyes open to Valkyrie frowning down at her.

“Warn a gal next time? We’ll find you a super fluffy chaise or something so you don’t break a bone,” Valkyrie grumbles. Darcy nods her thanks.

“When did the books start disappearing?” Darcy asks, wondering if it’s just another side effect of the mass genocide. 

“They have been breaking down in increments as if the spells are slowly being pulled apart with time,” Wong states. “It is not all at once, unlike our population.”

“I was warned that everything was decaying,” Darcy says to Wong with a frown. “So unless we all find a way to fix this, it won’t only be half of the people of the universe. Our entire reality is disintegrating.”

* * *

Clint swears under his breath as he trips over an uneven bit of terrain. He is exhausted, regretting his inconsistent training for the past year, but continues to push forwards anyways. They’ve been chasing after Nebula for easily twenty minutes and he is at a disadvantage being the only one out of their group without some sort of enhancement to keep up. Tony is in the air, trying to get the right angle on the horizon to see what sort of force Nebula managed to alert.

“ _Shit_ ,” Tony’s voice over the comms isn’t reassuring. “ _The Mad Titan himself is in the midst of it. But... is he injured?_ ”

Clint breaks away from Natasha, choosing to climb the cliff face where he can get some height and snipe with his arrows more effectively. The spot looks reasonably well defensible and he knows they won’t be able to make the landing site before Thanos overtakes them. 

“ _Thor did mention Thanos possibly took some damage from his snap_ ,” Natasha states in his ear, the information new to Tony as he’d been off-world. “ _How many enemies do you count?_ ”

“ _A couple dozen maybe? He keeps a small troop for having the most powerful item in existence_ ,” is Tony’s response. “ _Ah, fuck, he saw me. God damn it, he’s furious. Nebula, why-_ ”

“ _Of course he’s furious_ ,” Nebula snaps over the comms. Clint didn’t even realize she was connected to it. “ _You all will have to keep him busy while I-_ ”

“ _Nebula!_ ”

The enraged howl of Thanos interrupts her as he steps out from the trees. Clint has an arrow nocked in his bow instantly. Two Chitauri appear next to the Titan, one instantly going down as Clint sets his arrow loose into the creature.

“Fuck, I hoped never to see these assholes again, Stark,” Clint grumbles as he glances back to see Natasha posting near Nebula who is pulling the gauntlet out of the pack she’s pulled off her back. “What the hell is the robot woman doing?”

Natasha seems to have muted her comms, yelling at Nebula who ignores her. Thanos is approaching fast, the Chitauri in his midst running forward and Clint shoots another arrow into the group. Tony flies down to blast a few of the creatures back and Clint can only imagine the expression on his masked face.

“ _Just let her do it, Romanoff! It’s not like she can make it worse can she?_ ” Tony yells over comms. Clint swears under his breath as he watches Natasha pull out her batons and step back from the woman. From his perspective, Clint can see the gauntlet is damaged, the metal dull and cracked in places, the gems glowing dimly.

Chitauri rush towards the pair, Tony the next line of defense to them, Clint’s efforts at shooting arrows only mildly slowing them down. Thanos begins to lumber forward in a run himself. Natasha finds herself tangled with three Chitauri, which prompts Clint’s arrows to her area, his experience with her movements keeping him from hitting her.

Nebula pulls the metal glove onto her left arm.

She screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These fight scenes are so difficult. Hopefully it's not too complicated and makes sense. Oof.
> 
> So, uh, I wanted this to be done before Captain Marvel came out. I was under the impression it was coming out late March. Lo and behold, today I realize it's under 8 weeks away... and I have at least 10 more chapters written with possibly more. So! I'm going to be updating a lot more now. Hopefully it doesn't completely fry my brain. <3


	20. Chapter 20

Steve lands on the ground with a roll, looking up to see how Bruce fares with his jump. The doctor is unceremonious with his attempt, falling next to Steve with a yelp, a pair of rockets popping out from his back to stabilize him and keep him from injury. Thor lands after Bruce with Rocket sliding down from the Asgardian’s shoulder.

“The readings are that-” Rocket begins.

An echo of a scream interrupts him, permeating the area. The group turns, instantly running towards the sound. As they come through a cluster of trees overgrowing the rock, they can see Thanos approaching the other team scattered near a screaming Nebula, the gauntlet on her arm. 

Thanos’ proximity to the team, stripped of the gauntlet, is a surprise to Steve. Even with how conspicuous their arrival was, he expected more time to work around Thanos' camp and perhaps avoid the titan's notice at all. Natasha is fighting her way around the blue woman, trying to keep a secure perimeter, some of the enemies being clipped back by arrows sent from Clint. Tony is in the air, small missiles bursting out of his suit to slow the titan’s approach to Nebula.

“Bruce, go help out Clint!” Steve orders over his shoulder as he runs to join and help Natasha. He manages a fleeting glance of Bruce following his direction, with Rocket following, heading to the bit of hill where Clint is sniping. Thor lets out a blast of lightning from Stormbreaker to help clear their way into the fray.

Nebula is glowing, still screaming in what Steve can only classify as pain filled rage, the stones glowing on the glove. Cracks begin to appear along the metal, the strain of power fluctuating along the gold. A bright light appears next to Nebula, a form being pulled together, and ribbons of color travel up Nebula’s body.

_Does Nebula have the ability to withstand that power?_

Steve finally reaches Natasha who is dancing around a Chitauri. He takes the opportunity to smash the creature in the back of the head, Natasha nods her thanks and takes on the next one to appear.

“ _ **NO!**_ ” 

The voice that cries out is entirely foreign to Steve, a female blend of tones that makes no earthly sense. As he turns to stab into an enemy with his Wakandan arm shield, he glances up to see Nebula knocked back as if she took an invisible punch to the sternum, the blue woman's arm blasting off of her body and dropping to the ground encased in the gauntlet.

The light instantly dissipates.

Thanos drops down, reaching out towards the gauntlet, one hand being horrifically scarred. It’s knocked back away from him, similar to the invisible punch Nebula received. It knocks Nebula’s limb out of the glove towards her and remains out of Thanos’ reach.

“Is that you, Mistress?” he murmurs, just barely in Steve’s hearing range. There is no response, which causes Thanos to turn and glare at Nebula, the fight of his minions around utterly irrelevant to him.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” he growls. “Useless bit of scrap.”

Nebula bares her teeth at him, using her right arm to shuffle over to her left and gauntlet tossed nearby. 

“Learned from the best.”

Tony blasts over to Nebula in front of the golden glove, attempting to be a line of defense from Thanos who is already standing to intercept it. Thor throws Stormbreaker out in a boomerang arc to blast many enemies before turning at the same time as Steve to see Thanos’ approach the gauntlet.

As Thanos throws a punch into Tony, Tony's suit instantly begins to build a sort of shield to the titan, plates expanding in front of their eyes while feet shoot behind Tony to dig into the terrain. Thanos begins grasping bits of the metal to crush in his hands, only slightly slowed.

“Thor!” Steve calls out, finding himself tangled with a Chitauri. 

Thor turns, instantly leaping, Stormbreaker sliding back into his hand quickly. He flies through the sky in a giant leap to bring the axe crashing down against the gauntlet.

_Boom._

A bright light blinds everyone, the resulting explosion blasting everyone back. 

A strange sensation hits Steve, something akin to when Wanda had been overloading the Mind Stone while holding Thanos back. Steve isn’t even sure it happened, as the moment passed so suddenly from the titan’s mild surprise to him gripping Vision’s throat. Time feels murky and strange.

Bits of tarnished gold fly through the air, scattered to the ground in an errant manner.

After a dazed moment, Steve sits up from his newfound position on the ground and can see a piece of the gauntlet within reach. The cracks on the gauntlet must have caused it to splinter into smaller chunks and Steve reaches out to grab ahold of the bit of gold with an amber stone set in it.

The Chitauri he had been battling moments before clamps it's own hand over it, quickly scurrying back with a nasty sound that prompts Steve to fling himself up as quick as he can.

He jabs at the Chitauri, who seems overwhelmed by the power traveling up its arm, veins lighting up with an amber glow. Steve takes one moment to register the reaction before spinning around with his shield and hacking through the Chitauri, casually ripping its arm from its body while slicing its throat with the edge of his shield.

The enemy drops with Steve holding an alien forearm glowing amber, the amber stone held in its fist.

A roar of pain and anger emits from the titan that echoes through the trees, prompting Steve to narrow his eyes on Thanos’ position. Thanos’ hands are covered in dark blood, the blast too close to his hands, dripping all over the ground. Tony is already up and back to Nebula, hefting her up through the air to deposit her by Bruce, Rocket, and Clint.

Steve can see a single Chitauri crawling up to their sniping position and grabbing at the ground fiercely. Bruce throws a punch that seems to surprise the mild-mannered doctor as Rocket turns to unload a bullet in the head of the creature. Bruce stoops down to pick up the golden stone with his bare hand. 

“Bruce, no!” Steve yells, terrified of what the raw power of the Mind Stone could do to his friend.

Natasha is slowly pulling back towards the rest of the group, their enemies still single-minded in their attack. Bruce’s mouth opens in a scream that deepens, the golden sheen traveling up his arm that shifts from human to Hulk and back and forth.

Tony flies back down, scouting the ground quickly, finding a shard of gold with green attached to it - the thumb of the gauntlet, Steve can see from his angle - and yells over comms.

“ _I’ve got the Time Stone!_ ”

Steve can feel a power that is shooting out of the orange stone through the limb he's holding, trying to latch onto something tangible. Glancing around, the other stones are out of view and a sinking realization hits Steve.

_Half of them is better than none._

Looking at Thanos, the giant is stunned by the injuries to his hands, not even looking for any of the stones. Steve punches his way past enemies towards Bruce, the man’s form shifting violently back and forth so quickly that he feels a drench of fear for his friend - Bruce and Hulk. Clint is pulling him down the small bit of high ground, trying to keep a safe distance from Bruce’s hand which is still glowing ominously.

“Tony! Thor! We have to get out of here _now_!” Steve dictates, seeing the array of enemies beginning to corner their small number back against the cliff. Thor sets out another blast of electricity out to give Natasha a clear path to where they’re beginning to regroup and Tony touches down next to them right as Steve arrives.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?” Clint asks, eyeing their position of being surrounded by the Chitauri. Natasha snorts, raising her batons in a defensible position. Steve isn’t sure where Nebula got a gun, but she’s shooting with Rocket into the creatures closest to them.

“Yeah,” Steve huffs out. “But this isn’t New York. Get us out of here, Thor!”

Thanos lets out another roar, his purpose found once again as he clambers up on his feet to lumber towards them. Thor throws up his axe, opening the Bifrost and shooting them safely away.

* * *

Darcy steps through the orange portal with Valkyrie, finding themselves deposited on a deserted sidewalk by a service door of Avengers Tower. Wong closes the portal without a farewell.

Valkyrie gives her an odd look as they turn to walk back inside the building.

“Did you find what you were seeking?” she asks, looking like she’s chewing on a thought. Darcy shrugs.

“I don’t know. At least I tried, so that’s the important part, right?” Darcy replies. 

Walking into the lobby, they pass through security without being stopped. Entering one of the elevators, she rubs her temple with her hand.

_Why did Strange send me to Wong when he just confirmed what we already knew?_

The elevator doors open and Darcy walks into the common lounge with Valkyrie, uncertain of what to do with herself now that she’s been relegated to ‘sit and wait’ against her will. She’s surprised to find a pair of girls there, both with dark hair, sitting in front of the coffee table with embossing thread in a myriad of colors spilled out in front of them. The two pairs of females stare at each other for a split second as if simultaneously both thinking _do you belong here?_

“Hello, I’m Darcy,” she starts, walking closer. “What are you doing?”

One of the girl's whispers in the ear of the other one who looks a little bit older. The other one whispers back while giving an assuring look.

“They wouldn’t be here if they were bad. FRIDAY would keep them out, right?”

Darcy blinks in confusion, feeling her worldview shift a bit as she realizes she’s different from before. While her eyes might not be that noticeable, both of the girls in front of her are sharp and suspicious of everything. The fact that she’s got dirt all over her clothes from landing harshly into a door a while ago and messy hair probably doesn’t help.

Then Darcy glances at Valkyrie who has a bruise on her cheekbone and the runic sword that Wong didn’t demand back still in her hand. _Oh._

“Er, this is my friend Valkyrie. We, uh,” Darcy begins again, feeling oddly out of place. Usually, small children aren’t too much trouble for her, as she usually just finds a fun distraction and makes sure to throw snacks at them often. It was eerily similar to her regular duties of helping Jane. She plops down on the couch next to the coffee table where they’re set up. “We live here. Promise.”

“Why do you have rainbow eyes?” the younger one demands. “ _I_ want rainbow eyes.”

“I was in an accident. It hurt a whole lot and was really not fun,” Darcy replies, trying to be dissuasive. Leave it to her to make meeting Mistress Death into something enjoyable. The girl wrinkles her nose in disappointment.

“Is that a real sword?” the older looking one asks as she points at Valkyrie’s blade. “I thought I’d get a sword for my birthday since I turned 10 but Hope said _no_ , I had to start with practice ones first.”

“Hope spoke with wisdom,” Valkyrie replies. “This is indeed real. Would you like to see?”

The girl jumps up, making the younger one frown and go back to her thread. Darcy can see that they’re attempting friendship bracelets, the different blends of knots and braids making quite a collection. She walks a bit closer, peering down.

“Hitch knots, huh? I remember doing that when I was your age,” Darcy attempts with a small smile. More accurately, Darcy remembers doing this with her mom, the rhythm of tying and knotting soothing for both of them. Eventually, Darcy graduated up to crocheting, the art of knitting a bit beyond her abilities.

The girl shrugs, more reticent than her companion. Darcy tries again. “Has your sister always been into swords?”

The girl blinks at her and shakes her head.

“Cassie’s not my sister,” is the pert reply from her, glancing at the aforementioned Cassie, who is holding the blade a few feet away from the table, swinging it around. Valkyrie looks a mixture of amused and critical as she assesses the girl’s talent.

“Oh, sorry,” Darcy says. “My mistake.”

“I guess she likes swords. She wants to be like Hope, who she tells me is this lady her daddy brings around sometimes. She says Hope can kick her daddy’s butt,” the girl giggles a bit, twisting the thread before huffing. “Cassieee!”

Cassie turns back to the girl, lowering the weapon and peering down. “You’re doing it right, you just need to make it tighter, Lila.”

Darcy catalogs the names, knowing she should probably have some sort of clue of who they are, especially if their parents dusted. 

_Is one of them Hawkeye’s kid? He would be housed on this floor. But then where did the other girl come from?_

Reaching over, she snags some of the strings to tighten them in Lila’s smaller grasp.

“It helps if you work with the tension of the thread, see? Otherwise, it gets all twisted up,” Darcy offers, pointing at her hand.

Valkyrie adjusts Cassie, showing her the way to grasp the handle and swing in a continuous motion.

“Never too early to teach your muscles where they need to go,” she says.

A man walks in at this moment with messed up hair and tired eyes. He stops when he sees the girl swinging a sword around. “Cassie!”

The girl startles, motion interrupted and smiles at the newcomer.

“Hi, daddy!”

He walks over their group looking generally befuddled. 

“Er, hello. Don’t think I’ve met either of you. Scott Lang.”

He offers a hand to Darcy, avoiding the pair of females swinging a sharp object around.

“Darcy Lewis,” she takes his hand with a slight shake before motioning to Cassie. “That one is yours, I gather. But Lila...?”

“Barton’s kid,” he supplies, which makes Darcy nod. 

Lila shoots Darcy an annoyed look. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Darcy snickers, sitting down on the ground next to Lila before adding, “Valkyrie is the one showing Cassie all the moves.”

Scott shrugs.

“Could be worse things to learn. Hey, you haven’t seen anyone, have you? I thought Clint or someone would let me know what the plan was. Last I heard Stark had finally returned, but it’s been silent since then.”

Darcy blinks.

“Uh, no. They all left this morning? Didn’t you ask FRIDAY?” she asks, tamping down on the annoyance she feels simmering in her gut. Scott frowns.

“Mr. Lang has not been cleared for that information,” FRIDAY’s voice interjects. Darcy rolls her eyes.

“And that’s only because Pepper likely didn’t think to add him, FRIDAY,” Darcy states. “Where is the team currently?”

“They are on a mission to the planet Zen-Whoberei,” FRIDAY immediately surrenders. Scott’s frown turns to confusion.

“Wait, they left?” he asks. Darcy nods.

“And who exactly all went on this expedition?” Darcy continues questioning FRIDAY.

“Sir, Captain Rogers, Barton, Romanoff, Dr. Banner, Thor, Nebula, and Rocket,” FRIDAY recites dutifully.

“I thought the whole point of me heading out here was to help them out,” Scott ruffles his hair, looking annoyed and strangely disappointed. “I mean, _they_ approached me coming out here to help out. Hell, I was lucky they did, otherwise, I could have been-”

“Hold on, sorry, what do you do again?” Darcy asks with a frown, holding up a hand. Lila finishes her bracelet and holds it up for Darcy to see. Blinking at it, she gives the girl a thumbs up sign.

“I get, uh, small. Or big. Depending on what’s necessary,” Scott explains. “Sometimes it’s very small and I was in the midst of a, hmm, field trip when my associates disappeared. If an acquaintance hadn’t been waiting for me to return with her, uh, order, I’d probably still be stuck.”

“He’s _Ant-Man_ ,” Cassie states clearly from the other side of the room. “And he’s going to fix everything, just you wait and see.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raise and she shoots Scott an incredulous look. His hero name isn’t much to go off on. Despite the possible usefulness of size shenanigans, being an ant... did it mean he was good at building colonies? Ants weren’t exactly known for individual combat, swarming being more their style as far as Darcy knew. Hell, the Spider-man kid at least made physical sense. And while there’s no doubt that Scott looks fit, he’s not exactly on par with Steve or Thor. He looks somewhat exasperated by her evident disbelief. 

Another woman enters the room, expression turning aghast almost immediately at Cassie and Valkyrie’s practice swings.

“Cassie!”

The similar exclamation, albeit more disapproving, has an entirely different result on Cassie’s demeanor. She winces, pushing the sword into Valkyrie’s hand as quickly as possible before regulating her emotions on her face to be sweet and open as she turns.

Darcy’s impressed at how quickly the girl switched the panic off her face.

“Hi, mom!” Cassie says brightly. “This is my friend Valkyrie, she’s showing me how to do fun rolls!”

Without waiting for prompting from Valkyrie, Cassie begins to do somersaults around the room. Cassie’s mom has a beleaguered expression as she walks over to Scott and Darcy.

“Good grief, Scott, you couldn’t tell her no swords?” she grumbles. “I thought we went over this before her birthday.”

“Don’t look at me. She got that cajoling expression from _you_ , Maggie.”

“Yeah, and getting _caught_ from you,” the woman sniffs disapprovingly before turning to Darcy. “Hello. Maggie Lang.”

“Darcy Lewis,” Darcy says with a nod. Maggie gives her a scrutinizing glance, eye contact lingering a bit too long for her not to notice the strange aura around her pupils.

“How did you find yourself here?” she asks Darcy.

 _Well, that’s a fucking loaded question_ , pops into Darcy’s mind before she can stop it. The sheer possibilities she can lead with are all equally humorous and fantastical sounding.

Valkyrie pops her head up as if to ask ‘ _want an out?_ ’ but Darcy shakes her head with a sigh.

“Er... I’ve known some of the team members for a while. Thor the longest, hence his friend over there keeping me company. Also, turns out I’m, uh, Steve Rogers’ Match,” Darcy mumbles the last bit very quickly.

Scott’s eyebrows raise and Maggie squints like she’s not sure she heard her.

“Whoa, really?” is Scott’s reply and he leans to murmur at Maggie. “Captain America.”

Maggie rolls her eyes at Scott that reads _like I could forget who that is_ and turns a look that is more sympathetic than anything else to Darcy.

“Yeah,” Darcy gives a bracing smile, glad to have some thread in her hands to fiddle with as she helps Lila with the bracelet.

“You have a mark and everything?” Lila asks, turning to squint at her.

Darcy pulls on the sleeve at her wrist, showing Lila the glowing mark. The girl’s eyes widen.

“Whoa, Auntie Nat’s mark didn’t do _that_!” the girl exclaims. “Her’s was just oozing blood.”

The information that is so carelessly thrown out surprises Darcy. Marks were mostly taboo as if society wanted to scrub the idea of them off the world, yet somehow vilify the folks who didn’t have them. The humorous contradiction isn’t lost on Darcy. But the fact that Natasha showed Lila her mark, confirmed that her Match was gone, speaks volumes.

“Her’s was on her left arm too,” Lila whispers conspiratorially.

Darcy feels a niggling feeling in the back of her mind as if that means something but she can’t quite connect what. It was innocent enough information since if Marks were on your arms at all, they usually ended up on your nondominant side.

“Well, it’s about time for lunch, girls, what do you feel like?” Maggie asks, standing up and brushing her hands off on her jeans.

Cassie dashes over to her mom to squeeze her waist and follow her out of the room in the direction of the kitchen. Scott stands to follow them, tilting his head at Lila.

“You coming, Lila?” he asks, the girl remaining by Darcy.

“I’m gonna finish this,” she mumbles, looking at Darcy for confirmation. “Will you stay with me?”

Darcy nods, waving Scott off. Lila couldn’t get into trouble without FRIDAY alerting someone, and by Scott’s reaction to her Match status, Darcy had immediately been placed in a category of ‘trust implicitly’.

Valkyrie tilts her head from her relaxed position on the other side of the room. Darcy shakes her head and the Asgardian shrugs, turning to leave. Lila gives out a little sigh as Valkyrie disappears around a doorway.

“I like Cassie a lot. Her dad is funny and her mommy is nice,” she says quietly. Darcy continues to knot a tangle of thread together, a rather ominous mixture of red and grey and black.

“But you miss your mommy,” Darcy states nonchalantly, focusing on her task.

Lila wrinkles her nose at Darcy in annoyance that her unspoken words were sussed out.

“Daddy is going to fix it. Auntie Nat is helping him and all his old friends. They’ve never failed anything,” Lila states, a wobble on her lip that she bites down on. “They even made the scary... robot... go away...”

_Shit._

Lila’s face scrunches up as she obviously struggles to keep her tears in check.

“I _like_ Cassie and I have to stay with her ‘cause daddy is busy. But she has almost _all_ her family and I only have _Daddy_ ,” Lila stresses the words in such a dramatic way that Darcy can’t help but drop her project and pull an arm around her shoulders. Lila’s sniffles are making way into proper sobs as she burrows into Darcy’s shoulder. “And Daddy can’t worry about me cause he has to _fix everything_ and I just want Cooper to be here to watch me and Nate’s cute little chattering and _Mommy_. I want it to be _normal_.”

The concern this small girl has over her family just stabs into Darcy. The certainty of being too young to help, knowing it was out of her range of responsibility, but the weight still pressing on the young frame. 

It reminds Darcy of being ten years old, waking up early in the morning to make breakfast and push her mother into a shower so she wouldn’t be late for work. For her to painstakingly arrange her mother’s medication in proper order so Sandra wouldn’t forget to take a dose. Scouting the mailbox for bills, finding out the hard way that if they went unattended long enough, the electric company would eventually shut the power off. The responsibility had sucked.

Pretending everything was fine had been harder.

Darcy squeezes the girl to her, wanting to shield her. She knows it’s not the same, not really, but the insanity the world has thrust on everyone doesn’t make it any less frightful for a child.

“It’ll be okay, Lila,” Darcy murmurs, patting the girls head. “I promise. Everything will work out.”

Lila sniffles, peering up at her with soulful eyes.

“You promise?”

“I do.”

* * *

Later, after leaving Lila with the Lang’s, Darcy finds herself in Pepper’s office, watching as the tall woman shuffles through electronic documents projected on her desk. There’s a call being conveyed through the speakerphone, which Darcy realizes is about coordinating strategies on how to continue manufacturing general goods with lower manpower.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ms. Potts. The crops just aren’t flourishing,” the man on the line has an anxious drawl. “In all my years working the fields, never once seen a blight like this. I went over to the Bannock farm just yesterday and they have the same darn problems.”

Pepper pinches the bridge of her nose, looking down at the screen in front of her.

“Anders? Thank Mr. Milton for his time, I’m sure he has many pressing things to address,” Pepper’s voice is tired as she ends the call and shuffles through tabs.

“Problems?” Darcy asks quietly, sitting in the adjacent chair. If she concentrates, she can almost entirely blend the real world into nothing and just see Pepper’s soul, mark glowing brightly from her side. Glancing down at her wrist, Darcy can see the similarities of a mark that isn’t under duress, unlike the stillness of Valkyrie’s dead mark or the wispy faded version that Bruce is sporting.

Pepper nods.

“I know modern farming isn’t always the most fascinating level of study, but with the advances in the agricultural industry, we can harvest a lot more than even twenty years ago due to GPS. But it’s all irrelevant if the crops won’t grow.”

Darcy frowns. “What crops are affected?”

“All of them, as far as I’ve researched. There are food storages for emergencies, of course, but between half of our livestock disappearing, there’s going to be shortages. I’m coordinating with the best in the government, but again, they’re usually the ones stockpiling for these sorts of situations...”

Pepper breaks off, sighing. “I know we live in a bubble of privilege, but the truth of the matter is we’re just at the beginning of this collapse. Ross was pushing for Martial Law the moment the Decimation happened, which is why I’m trying to coordinate this sooner rather than later. Thank god for Rhodey being in D.C. to keep Ross from storming the Tower.”

Darcy nods, thinking of the queues of people she saw during her walk to the Sanctum, realizing they were waiting for supplies due to shortages.

“Did you have a chance to speak to Tony before they left?” Pepper asks. Darcy snorts.

“No,” she replies shortly. “They left before I even knew they were going. Steve misled me in thinking that I’d be going along-”

“You wanted to go?” Pepper’s question is shocked, looking alarmed. “What on earth for?”

Darcy frowns, biting her lip as she considers how much to share. 

“I thought I could help,” she replies lamely. Shaking her head at Pepper’s suspicious glance, she continues. “I came up here to ask how you were feeling. Tony was only back for a couple hours before heading off again.”

Pepper sighs. “I’m a lot of things right now, which is mostly nothing good and I can’t alleviate it with anything more than a strong cup of coffee. Tony had a solid 5 hours of sleep, however, which is the best I could hope for considering that even _I_ don’t want to sleep. There’s too much work to do.”

“And your mark? When he left?” Darcy aims for nonchalance, but Pepper raises her eyebrows.

“It’s not much different than normal. Why?”

“Seems every time Steve leaves, my nose feels the desire to become acquainted with the floor. I didn’t seize this time, so that’s an improvement, but I don’t know if I’m supposed to expect this every time he leaves,” Darcy mutters. Pepper nods.

“There’s always a tug when Tony leaves. I will say it was more extreme this last time when they left. But we both travel so much, I think we’ve gotten used to it,” Pepper explains. Darcy feels a pang of wistfulness, the patience in Pepper’s tone just like Darcy used to imagine how an older sister would explain awkward discussions.

“I can see your mark,” Darcy says suddenly. Pepper blinks. “I find it interesting that we all have these different marks, Words and Strings and Timers and whatnot, but they all end with a strand leading out towards their presumed Match. Yours and mine are strong, bright, _healthy_. But so many others are wispy or dead.”

“What good is it that you can see Matches?” Pepper asks, looking confused. “It’s nice that you can confirm them and such, and it sounds like an interesting ability, but is it useful?”

Darcy frowns. She looks down at her wrist and plucks at the strand leading away from her almost directly up. It remains unchanged, although the motion didn’t feel particularly pleasant. Looking back at Pepper, she raises her eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I can touch mine, but I don’t know if that means much. Could... I try to touch yours?” Darcy mutters out. “I’ll take 2000 for ‘Inappropriate Phrasing’, Alex.”

Pepper shrugs, standing to walk around her desk and sit in the chair next to Darcy. “The more you know, the better prepared you’ll be.”

Darcy nods, concentrating as she focuses on Pepper’s mark reaching out of her side to point up in a similar direction to Darcy’s. She reaches out with her right hand, brushing with the lightest of touches against it and gauges for a reaction with wide eyes.

Pepper gives a small smile, shaking her head. “I don’t feel anything if you’re doing something. Which is kind of relief, to be honest. What damage could you accidentally do if you were just walking around, bumping into someone?”

Darcy nods, feeling more comfortable with running her hand along Pepper’s mark, feeling the tension of the thin strand and it’s texture which is like a taut taffy.

Suddenly, a shudder passes through the building and Darcy can see a flash of brightness flow through both of their marks. She turns alarmed eyes to Pepper, who stands with her before they both rush to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry, Wong is a small bit. He really likes protecting those Sanctums. :P
> 
> Hopefully, the size of this chapter wasn't too annoying. Happy Friday.


	21. Chapter 21

The landing onto the Avengers Tower platform is rough. Everyone lands in a sprawled out pattern and Steve immediately rolls to Bruce, dropping the amber glowing limb and pulling Hulk’s mammoth hand closer to try to remove the stone.

Hulk’s fist proves impossible to open. The Mind Stone hidden there is glowing, but no matter how Steve tries to pry at Hulk’s fingers, it remains stubbornly shut. Bruce is screaming, his arm in the flux of transformation, veins glowing with gold. It travels along Hulk’s arm travels in smaller bursts up Bruce’s neck and disperses between his head and body. 

Tony appears next to Steve, holding the thumb of the gauntlet in his suited hand. Steve reaches out and grabs Tony’s arm, thought process tripping over trying to keep the man from getting too close. Tony’s suit seems to absorb the entire chunk of thumb before releasing the Time Stone away from the suit directly against Tony’s suddenly bared palm.

Tony, what the hell do you think you’re doing?

He opens his mouth to ask exactly that when Tony activates the stone. There’s a rippling effect throughout the room from it as if they are all caught in its shockwave, and Steve looks around to see the rest of the team, Bruce included, frozen in time.

“What the _fuck_ , Tony?” Steve asks, glancing at the man. Tony’s face is pale, panicked expression lining his features. 

“I... well, shit,” he mutters and Steve notices the limb holding the amber Infinity Stone is glowing in tandem with the Time Stone and Hulk's veins.

“Well, hurry up! Try to get that stone out of Bruce’s hand!” Tony snaps out, the struggle of exertion already taking a toll on his features as he focuses on Hulk’s hand. Steve pauses for just a moment to see Tony’s hair swirl with greys before reverting into brown, wrinkles on his face deepening and smoothing back and forth. 

“Right,” Steve says, looking down at the Hulk hand that is reverting to a moment where it had been human. There’s a tense moment where he pulls apart Bruce’s fingers, hoping that he’s not breaking the man’s fingers, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief that he’s successful. Turning Bruce’s hand over, Steve uses the edge of his shield to pry the Mind Stone free from Bruce’s palm.

It remains suspended in the air, pushed out of their small bubble out of time, but remains glowing with the other stones.

“Okay, Tony, it’s out of his hand,” Steve says, looking around at the team to see if there’s anything more pressing than Bruce. Nebula seems to be slumped over, Rocket clinging to her detached arm with Natasha leaning over the robotic woman. Thor and Clint are frozen, about to step up to him and Tony to help with Bruce.

He can see the elevator doors are frozen in the process of opening, with Darcy right in front. Her brow is furrowed but she has that determination in her eyes that’s he’s so familiar with it sends a new pang of fear through him.

Turning back to Tony, Steve grabs at the man’s shoulder. Tony’s expression is the same, that same hyper-focused fear pursing his lips together as he concentrates.

“Tony?” Steve asks, suddenly realizing something is very very wrong.

“I can’t...” Tony struggles to even open his mouth and Steve glances down at Tony’s hand which is slowly opening as if the man wants to drop it, revealing the Time Stone. Emerald green symbols are circling his wrist, spinning erratically, and his other hand is beginning to shake. Steve’s feet are rooted in place, knowing that if time is stopped, there’s little anyone else can do to help Tony. His gaze narrows on the stone which is emitting an ominous green glow. Without thinking, Steve reaches to try and help get the stone out of Tony’s hand.

Tony punches his other arm out suddenly, knocking Steve back, and as he pitches back to the ground he can feel the world begin to move once again.

“Tony!” Steve yells out as he lands. Thor gives him a hand up as Clint pulls Bruce away from the Mind Stone that falls to the floor. Everyone else turns to look at Tony who seems to be stuck in some sort of motion, extremities shimmering in and out of existence. His height seems to fluctuate up and down, causing the suit to crack and buckle off of him in pieces to his feet, his form uncertain where it wants to land his age. The only constant is the dreadful fear in his eyes as he vibrates, obviously trying to control the spikes of power that the Time Stone is pulsing.

“ _Tony!_ ”

* * *

Darcy bolts out of the elevator onto the podium, Pepper a few feet behind her. She can see the entire teams is back, looking tired and battle worn. Steve is pitching to the ground suddenly, motion oddly jarring for the man who’s usually so limber. Focusing behind him, she can see exactly what caused his fall as Tony’s form is there. 

Darcy is dumbfounded as she can _see_ his soul struggle to hold steady. Tony’s physical form is shuttering up and down in an uncontrolled fashion, but his soul remains intact. Darcy claps her hands over her ears because of the anguished screaming coming from Tony’s soul, which only she appears to hear.

She darts around Steve without hesitation, stepping up to Tony and puts her hands out to snag the flailing strand of his mark. Tony’s soul snaps to attention, eyes finding her face, but she ignores him. Darcy’s hands begin to glow with a glimmer of a rainbow and she turns to glance at Pepper who’s stepped up close but has a helpless panic about her. 

“Pepper?” Darcy isn’t sure if the word even escapes her lips, she’s so focused on Tony and keeping the Time Stone from wreaking further havoc on the man. Pepper, fortunately, hears her.

_Please work, I can't let him die._

“Go ahead, Darcy. I trust you,” Pepper states, somehow knowing exactly what question Darcy means to ask but struggles to convey.

Darcy reaches out with another hand towards the woman, grabbing her mark that Darcy knows connects to Tony. Yanking hard, she feels a shimmer of connection flow through her from Pepper towards Tony.

There’s a shudder of sound as the moment slows for Darcy. She compares Tony’s soul appearance to his physical counterpart which is reverting into the man she recognizes. She’s so focused that she doesn’t realize she’s been pulled into Tony’s out-of-time pocket.

“So on a scale of 1 to fucking stupid, how bad of an idea was this?” he asks, making Darcy startle. His voice is rough against the silence of the room only interrupted by ticking noises of the emerald stone.

She peers around. Everyone is looking towards them with varying degrees of shock and concern, an odd situation where the heroes particular brand of usefulness is inapplicable to these cosmic forces. Darcy feels like she should probably be surprised she got sucked into the time anomaly but feels numbly unconcerned. It feels downright familiar at this point with how often she’s been visiting other timeless places.

“Really fucking bad. Just because you have matching beards doesn’t mean you’re Dr. Strange, Tony,” Darcy snarks. “Why would you play with the Time Stone? Were you moonlighting as a wizard when I was in Wakanda?”

“I had to get Bruce’s hand back to human so Steve could get the Mind Stone out of it. Good to know Hulk can withstand the power of an Infinity Stone, but not the way I’d have liked to find out,” he replies.

“Ugh. I can’t yell at you about that.”

“How do you know Strange?” Tony asks, suspicion sharp on his features. Darcy shrugs.

“I don't. But I still found myself on a quest to meet Wong anyways,” she states flippantly. “Fuck, Tony, _don’t move like that_. I only have a smattering of an idea of what I’m doing here and you moving is making it very difficult.”

“What, exactly, are you doing?” he looks like he’s struggling to shake off his confusion to her words without moving and she bites her lip in concentration. Her brightened hands are obscuring a lot of what she’s doing, which is tugging and twisting at both Tony’s and Pepper’s marks to twine them together. The texture is unlike any thread she’s touched before, sticky and almost too pliant, making it reasonably easy to braid together.

“I’m trying to bolster your connection to our current point of time with your Match as an anchor. I mean, I’m connected to Steve and he kept my soul tethered to my body through all the realm skipping I was doing, I think. Probably kept me alive. So I figured it couldn’t hurt to try and lasso you out of your time paradox back to us with Pepper’s mark.”

“And you know how to do this... how?”

Darcy shrugs.

“Intuition,” is her simple reply. In all honesty, she can’t explain how she knew to grab his mark or even braid it together. All she knows is that she wasn’t about to watch him die, and if that was the purpose Mistress Death had given her, to snag Tony back from death in this one moment... so be it.

“Really fucking weird intuition, Half Pint,” Tony says. His physical appearance finally matches his soul and Darcy shoots him a small smile before nodding at his hand.

“Okay, now,” she says, removing her hand from Pepper’s mark. The moment still hangs as he struggles to gain control over the power of the stone. Tony’s palm is open, facing up, the green stone sitting so demurely in the middle.

Darcy finds herself using the hand that had previously been holding onto Pepper’s mark to pluck it out of his hand. Rainbow shimmers along her skin as she touches the stone, a slight sizzling sound as the stone tries - and fails - to latch into her skin.

“Huh.”

The moment awakens with a startling amount of sound and Darcy recoils at the blast of it to her ears.

“ _Darcy, no!_ ”

The yell comes from a delayed Steve who jumps up from the ground, crushing her against his chest. Her hands still shimmers with a light rainbow even though she drops the stone as surreptitiously as possible. It clinks as it hits the ground. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” she says as she pats his arm, glancing at Tony with an expression of _please don’t say anything_. 

Tony’s expression darkens for only an instant before Pepper steps up to inspect him and he’s forced to reassure his own match. The woman seems almost hesitant to touch him as if she’s afraid of being caught in the similar magic that had momentarily trapped him. 

“Is Bruce okay?” Darcy asks, glancing down at the man whose form is now wholly human. He’s unconscious, looking completely unkempt and his wrist swelling at a rather alarming rate. There’s a strange armor on him like Tony had designed a lightweight chest piece for the trip. 

“Dr. Banner’s vitals are steady,” FRIDAY states over the comms. 

Clint nods in confirmation, his hand on Bruce’s neck. Darcy feels a rush of relief. Steve squeezes her arm as if looking for confirmation that she’s all right. Anger spikes in her chest and she shakes him off to address Thor. 

“Where is the gauntlet?” is her question. “I thought you were going to get it, but I only see two stones.” 

Thor shakes his head. “I destroyed the gauntlet before Thanos could wreak more destruction on us. These were the ones we were able to reach. He still has the others.” 

“Three stones, Darcy,” Steve interjects, reaching down to grab a bloodied alien limb. “Unless anyone else managed to grab one?” 

There’s a moment of silence as no one disagrees. Darcy purses her lips together with a frown as she glances around the room. Natasha is helping heft the woman Darcy assumes is Nebula up while Clint is trying to wake Bruce. The gold and emerald stones lay on the ground, glinting as if angry they’re being ignored. Darcy can almost taste the frustration from their existence which makes no sense. 

“Which stones do you have?” she finally asks, looking at Tony. Anger is still coursing underneath all of her concern and she doesn’t want to even look at Steve right now. 

“Tony grabbed the Time Stone while Bruce grabbed the Mind Stone. I grabbed this one, but I’m not sure which one it is,” Steve says as he pries open the fingers to the dead limb. It forces Darcy to glance in his direction, peering into the dead palm. 

“Soul,” Darcy whispers. The color is too similar to the world that she found Jane and Strange and everyone else dusted in. She can feel everyone’s focus narrow on her and she winces, knowing how stupid that was of her to do. 

* * *

“ _What?_ How do you know that?” 

The question that bursts out of Steve at Darcy isn’t much of a surprise to Clint. Steve looks like he’s about to pull his hair out in frustration. If the moment of Darcy grabbing Tony hadn’t passed so quickly, Clint’s fairly sure Steve would have ripped her away from the man in distress, injury be damned. 

Darcy Lewis knows far too much and just tipped her hand. She hasn’t been involved in any of the other altercations involving the Infinity Stones, except perhaps the Aether, so her knowledge is suspect. 

“Uh,” Darcy bites her lip for a moment before tossing her hair and assuming a more confident air. “I mean, it’s a process of elimination, right? You’ve seen the other stones, this was the last one? You’re the one with the eidetic memory, Steve.” 

_Jesus Christ, she has experience with deflecting. Too bad she’s so obvious about it._

Steve’s expression morphs as he looks at Darcy, showing that he’s not buying what she’s selling. She ignores it and turns to walk over to Clint and Bruce, who is just beginning to wake up. Bruce squints, bringing up a hand to his head and shaking it. 

“Wha’ happened?” he mumbles. Darcy kneels and pats his shoulder. 

“You did something incredibly foolish,” she shrugs. “Let’s go get you checked out.” 

“Whoa, whoa, Half Pint,” Tony says, Pepper glancing between the two of them with a narrowed glance. “You can’t use Bruce as an excuse to get out of here. As much as it pains me to admit, Rogers’ just asked the question we all want to know the answer to.” 

Darcy deflates, shoulder sagging as she lowers her head. She slowly stands as if coming to a resolution. Steve shoots a look at Tony like he’s grateful someone is getting through to her. Natasha’s eyes land on Clint, eyebrows quirking, asking an unspoken question. 

_How honest do you think she’ll be?_

Clint responds with a slight shrug. _Bare minimum._

Pepper steps over to her and rests a hand on her shoulder. Darcy sends her a worried glance. 

“I was told my soul was stretched during my accident,” she mutters as if the admission scares her. 

“Lady Darcy-” Thor begins but is interrupted. 

“ _Stretched?_ ” Steve asks. “What does that even mean?” 

“So my ‘plane shifting’ or ‘astral projecting’ or whatever you want to call it goes hand in hand with the fact that I can see marks now. You’re right, Thor, our Matches aren’t dead. They’re just... gone,” she continues, ignoring Steve’s comment. “Marks are supposed to destine souls to meet, right? Well, I _feel_ how souls connect, match, whatever, and that stone feels the same.” 

Darcy seems to be holding something back, but Clint can’t begin to guess what. Thor nods. 

“Your talents have grown much since I saw you in Norway,” is Thor’s comment. Darcy shrugs at him. 

“I still do not know what the point of it is, though,” she says, eyes skirting around the room. 

_Lie._

Clint glances at Natasha, who mirrors his earlier response with a minuscule shrug of her own. 

“What difference does it make that I can see that Tony and Pepper are connected? Or that so many of you are disconnected from your Matches? It doesn’t make any sense,” Darcy continues. Clint is mildly impressed at her subterfuge, downplaying the importance of her abilities by focusing on how irrelevant it is. Natasha is watching Darcy and Pepper, the taller woman frowning at Darcy slightly. 

“As interesting as your little drama is, Thanos is going to be here any moment,” Nebula cuts in with a sharp voice. “Do you have a _plan_ for when he comes looking for what you stole?” 

Clint emits such a loud snort of laughter that she glares at him. 

“Yeah, do _our_ thievin’ fingers have a plan for the doom that’s gonna knock on our door any moment?” 

“He does have the Space Stone still. He will regroup as fast as he can,” Nebula hisses, grabbing her arm out of Rocket’s hands to begin assessing the damage. “He could arrive at any moment.” 

“Yeah, because you went off on your own-” Clint begins. 

“What happened to Vision?” Tony interrupts suddenly. It’s an abrupt subject change, but Clint isn’t surprised as it’s not the first time Tony’s redirected the conversation away from a Nebula met with criticism. “I understand he’s, er, deactivate or what not, but where is his body?” 

“We left his body in Wakanda,” Steve states softly. “Princess Shuri was in the process of trying to remove the Mind Stone from him when the attack came. Why?” 

Tony registers the information while pursing his lips in thought. 

“Could he survive without the stone? I thought that’s what made him Vision, the power of the stone with the layering of JARVIS overtaking Ultron?” 

“We didn’t - don’t - know,” Bruce shakes his head. “But the Princess was determined to try. Unfortunately, they were attacked in the process and we didn’t get to find out. Wanda was forced to try and destroy the Mind Stone.” 

“You can’t destroy the stones,” Darcy mutters as Thor nods somberly. 

“What’s that?” Tony glances sharply at Darcy, who looks ill at ease of being the main focus once again. Clint is suddenly glad Darcy somehow made her way into the group, as her reactions, while usually small and unobtrusive, are a bevy of entertainment. 

_She talks too much to hide anything for very long._

“Okay, this is going to sound weird as hell, but Jane would get these horrible nightmares after the Convergence, right?” Darcy shrugs, obviously aiming for nonchalance. “Basically, when the Aether was traipsing around in her body, she learned far more about them than anyone else has business to know. She would wake up with ‘it was so hungry.’ It had intelligence. It had a purpose. It had a drive.” 

“Lady Jane mentioned no such thing to me before-” Thor begins, frowning. Darcy raises her eyebrows at him. 

“Before your own nightmares took you off our world? Let’s not go down that road, Thor,” Darcy says primly. “In any case, they’re sentient. Can’t you feel their anger _right now_ that we’re not picking them up? I doubt they’ve ever run into mortals so wary of their power before.” 

Everyone looks down at the two stones on the ground, glimmering softly. It reminds Clint of a hazy time when his mind had been taken over, a whisper in the room pointing towards doing their will. He represses a shiver, not wanting to think of that time. Natasha throws a sharp look at Steve. 

“We’ve felt this before, on the Helicarrier before the attack on New York. The scepter was similarly cloying, Steve. Remember how we all turned on each other?” she asks, looking at Tony, Thor, and Bruce in turn. “I know we were newly acquainted, but even I remember that scene with an uncertain clarity.” 

“You are correct. I had not considered the fact that the Scepter had been in the room at that time, causing discord,” Thor admits in a soft voice, frowning. “You were all just foolish mortals in my head at the time.” 

Clint shuffles his foot, starkly reminded of where he was during that day, doing Loki’s bidding with a head full of cotton. Natasha had filled him in later, trying to relieve some of the guilt he felt over his own role in the crisis of New York. 

_These otherworldly toys wreak havoc wherever they go. You at least survived._

“Yeah, we were about to have a _rumble_ ,” Tony snorts. 

“Technically, the proper term is sapient, not sentient,” Bruce mentions which causes Darcy to shrug again. “Common misconception.” 

"That doesn’t explain why they can’t be destroyed,” Pepper points out. 

“Many beings have tried and failed,” Thor says. 

Darcy nods. “With them communing together, they seem aware of each other's talents, and the Time Stone can restore them back to their original state. And if the Time Stone is cracked, it reverts itself back in time. Safety mechanism. Even if Wanda had destroyed the Mind Stone off of Vision, the Time Stone would have found a way to restore it eventually. Hell, it might actually have been destroyed and Thanos played into the Time Stone's compulsion.” 

Natasha has a frown on her face as she glances at a grim faced Steve. Tony swears under his breath as he paces around. 

“So that’s why no garbage disposals,” he mutters. Bruce sends him an exasperated glance. 

“Yup,” Darcy agrees. “No point.” 

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks. “We need to keep them contained, separately.” 

“On it,” the AI replies. 

“So where do we mobilize for another assault?” Clint asks. Steve glances at Natasha with a grim expression. 

“I’d hate to ask it of them, but if Thanos is coming here again...” Steve begins. Natasha nods. 

“Wakanda is the best place, assuming they agree. They have the strategic space, and we can check on Vision’s body when we get there. There’s no guarantee Thanos wouldn’t show up there anyway, being the one place on Earth he’s physically visited. I’ll go connect with Princess Shuri right now,” Natasha turns to Bruce. “I’ll walk you to Subira. You need to be looked over.” 

Darcy looks like she’s about to protest, but Natasha and Bruce leave before she can interject. A set of three Iron Legion bots enter the room, each with their own box as they collect the stones individually. Steve dumps the Soul Stone from the dismembered limb he’s holding into a box one of the bots holds. 

Tony looks at Nebula and shrugs. “Wakanda is it, I guess. C’mon, I have a workshop where we can try to repair your arm.” 

He leads Nebula and the Iron Legion bots out of the room into an elevator, Thor and Rocket following them. “Y’know, Nebula, teamwork is a thing-” is heard from Rocket before the doors close. 

Clint realizes how quickly the room is clearing out, glancing between Darcy and Steve. He should have left with Natasha. Steve is staring at Darcy with a small frown and she’s determined not to look at him. 

The tension dripping off the two of them is enough to scare anyone out of the room. 

Pepper steps over to him and gives a small smile. 

“I’m glad I have this opportunity to talk to you about Lila, Clint,” she says as she takes his arm cordially and steers him towards another elevator. “She’s been an absolute boon.” 

_Thank you, Pepper._

“Is she doing alright?” Clint asks as soon as the doors close. 

“As well as can be expected,” she replies as she leans against the wall, uncharacteristically inelegant as her facade falls. “I swear, Darcy is just as exhausting as Tony in some respects.” 

Clint’s eyebrows raise. 

“How so?” 

Pepper sniffs fondly before straightening again, poise pulled on like a comfortable jacket once again. 

“She knows more than she’s letting on,” Pepper begins. “She’s stubbornly avoiding explaining any of it in detail, however. I can’t decide if it’s because she feels she knows more than us and thinks we’ll bar her from helping, or she actually does know more than us and is trying to protect us.” 

"What did she do to Tony?” Clint asks. He had noticed how close Pepper had brought herself to Tony and Darcy when the man was trapped in time. “Or to you? I saw her reach out to you as much as him.” 

“I haven’t any idea, Clint. I was being tugged in a direction while staying still, lending a hand I didn’t know I had. I’ll see what Tony says after he’s finished repairing Nebula,” Pepper explains. “I trust Darcy and I’m glad that it isn’t misplaced. She brought Tony back to us. Who knows what that stone could have done to him if she hadn’t interfered.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh mylanta, everything about this scene fought me. like really, story, please behave.
> 
> I am also curious as to how you lovely readers feel about gore. I have some bits that are being difficult because I'm mildly concerned about things getting *too* gritty, and... well, you can understand that conundrum. Thoughts?


	22. Chapter 22

Darcy turns to leave as soon as she realizes Pepper and Barton have disappeared after the others. Without any other crisis to discuss, she finds herself left with all of her anger, the anger having been shoved aside in the panic of trying to return Tony from the pocket of time he’d trapped himself in. She only makes it a few steps before Steve calls out.

“Darcy,” Steve says. Darcy pauses at a doorway, glancing back at him. He’s standing there, pondering his words carefully, expression foreboding.

“ _What_ ,” she states flatly. Darcy isn’t even entirely sure why she’s so angry. _Of course_ he’d leave her, she’s the liability she herself had pointed out to Mistress Death. She shouldn’t have been surprised. If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she even might have expected it.

But it still feels like a betrayal, somehow.

“How did you know about Titan?” Steve asks in a firm voice. Darcy’s spine stiffens. His stance is rigid, almost like a commanding officer requesting a debrief. His assumption that he can just expect her cooperation like he’s her senior officer sends another flare of anger. She feels an eerie sort of deja vu, his single-minded attention on her, demanding answers, reminding her of an ugly scene they’ve visited once before.

She felt like this then too, stuck between honesty and self-preservation, albeit the last time was only trying to save her trifling ego.

_Let’s see how much we can fucking misunderstand each other this time, hmm?_

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replies, turning to walk through the door and head down the staircase there. She’s not sure she can keep the same sort of composure like last time. When they hadn’t fully bonded their Match it had been a lot easier to deflect his concerns. Now with their bond much more robust, she can feel the spikes of anxiety Steve pretends he isn’t having.

And there’s the strangling weed of guilt taking root in her gut for lying about what she knows, prickling with frustration that she can’t say anything.

_Can he feel my frustration as much I feel his concern?_

As Darcy expects, Steve follows her as she begins the trek to her room. He waits until they’re at her door to speak.

“You know about Tony on Titan - you asked him about it after you woke up when there was no possible way for you to overhear. You know about Nebula - you referenced her without even meeting her. You know about the Soul Stone - you’ve never _seen_ an Infinity Stone, have you? You know an awful lot. _How?_ ” he says, voice pitching higher as he goes on.

“ _You_ knew when you were all going to leave. _You_ decided to sneak out without waking me. I thought that _we_ had agreed that I’d be coming,” Darcy retorts as the door opens to her small room and she steps inside.

“It’s an alien planet, Darcy, what would you have me do?” Steve says incredulously as the door closes behind him. “You have no combat experience! None!”

“Excuse you, I’ve been-”

“ _No_ , Natasha throwing you across a mat doesn’t count! There are literal years of training it takes to become proficient enough, you can’t learn in a couple weeks! We only knew rudimentary information about the planet, barely assured that Thanos was there and, wow, Nebula was right, he was. What do you have to protect yourself from Thanos' followers?” his voice is firm, but Darcy can hear the concern edging his voice towards yelling. “We’ve seen the enemies he’d employ, Chitauri in New York and those Outriders in Wakanda, what if one of them found you?”

“What’s keeping anyone or anything from finding me _here_?” Darcy retorts. “What keeps me safe while you go gallivanting off?”

Steve inhales sharply, recoiling like she’s slapped him with her words.

“Because where I stand, I’m fucked either way. Valkyrie has been an immense help from a physical side, but I’m almost completely defenseless to any _astral_ bullshit I might come across. Which is exactly what happened after you left, since Mordo found us,” she throws out with a guilty satisfaction of the alarm on his face. “We had no warning he’d appear. She did a great job against him until he _punched her soul out of her body_. Please, do tell me what you would do differently in the same situation.”

Steve opens her mouth before closing it again. He frowns and she can see him piece in the information with everything else.

“You can see souls?” he asks carefully as he steps into her personal space, eyes narrowed. “And you’re ‘plane shifting’... so your soul can leave your body as well? That’s why you’ve been collapsing?”

“Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn’t be collapsing if you actually stayed near me? Like, my brain went to shit when you space traveled with Thor,” Darcy bites out as she tries to step around him, uncertain of how to answer his question. Steve grabs her by her shoulders and peers down into her face intensely.

“Darcy, no, I need you to answer me. _Please. What can you do?_ ” he demands. “Do you just know things, or do you go somewhere, or can you talk with people, god damn it, Darcy, I can’t protect you if _I don’t know what you can do!_ ”

Darcy feels her mouth open in surprise at the plaintive terror in Steve’s voice. He seems to realize how he’s gripping her and releases her to begin a furious pace, confined by her little living room.

“I’m no stranger to unusual capabilities. Wanda-” he cuts himself off before shaking his head, “We had trainees that had all sorts of interesting abilities that we had to test, which we then worked into field studies. But you won’t tell me anything! You seem to be aware of all sorts of information and people and how they fit into our strange little world. And you somehow managed to get Tony out of that time pocket - did time stop for you as well? How long were you there? _What did you do?_ ”

Darcy is at a loss for words. She stands there, watching the tumult of words pour out of Steve. He turns his back towards her, speaking over a hunched shoulder in a terrified tone.

“Thor said you were going into other realms, Mordo attacked you in Norway and that we can’t see him or anything else. So are you going to shift to another realm, be attacked? Fall into a coma? _Never wake up?_ ”

Darcy throws her arms around his waist, hugging her body against his back, anger mostly evaporated. It’s hard to stay angry in the face of his desperation. Steve deflates and she can feel his hands rest over her own against his stomach.

“It’s like Wakanda all over again, when I walked into the training room and you were gone. Or Norway, with that scorched room all that was left. I thought you were safe, but you’re right there in the thick of things. And I show up too late. I’m always so fucking _late_.”

The admission is ripped out of him, cutting Darcy to the core. She can feel tears prickle her eyes and bites down hard on her lip.

“I can’t tell you,” she finally whispers out, finding it more comfortable to mumble into his back.

“What?”

“I was specifically warned to not talk about it. That it could ‘unravel everything,’” Darcy murmurs. “I don’t know anything useful, I don’t see how anything I do will-”

Steve turns around, eyes searching her face. “Unravel what?”

“I don’t know!” Darcy wails out softly. “The only thing I _do_ know is the moment I forgot myself and hinted at something I was warned against, Mordo appeared! All cryptic with faulty logic about how this catastrophe is my fault, somehow. Valkyrie protected me like the badass she is, hell, she didn’t get a sword till later due to the checkpoints-”

“Did he hurt you?” Steve asks, cupping her face in his hands.

“No. Other being freaked the fuck out that he managed to find me in the ‘real’ world. I can’t say the same for Mordo, Valkyrie sliced a pretty important looking vein in his thigh, but Wong was able to get him to a hospital-”

“But why did you leave the Tower?” Steve asks with a befuddled expression.

“I was told to find Wong, an associate of Dr. Strange. Apparently, the Mystic Arts peeps travel around in the Astral Plane, which is, yes, the thing I was sort of doing,” Darcy’s voice slowly trails down into a mutter. “I’m getting the hang of it anyway. And on the upside, I didn’t collapse when you last traveled with the team, so progress, yeah?”

Steve registers this information silently. Darcy can almost feel him calculating the possibilities of what she’s saying, categorizing what she can do, and it makes her sigh.

“I’m scared, Steve,” she whispers. “I don’t know where I fit in all of this, but I do know I need to be close. When you all left... I thought you were going to die because I wasn’t there.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” Steve refutes instantly.

“But it could have. What if you’d gotten separated from Thor? If you guys hadn’t returned so quickly, I was about to try to see if I could figure out how to get to you,” Darcy admits softly.

“You can travel that far?” he asks in concern which causes her to shrug in return.

“I don’t know. But I can see our mark, Steve, and I would follow you to the end of the universe.”

* * *

_I would follow you to the end of the universe._

Steve leans to touch his forehead to Darcy’s. Her words soothe something inside of Steve, which is odd considering how the words conflict with his intuition to pull her behind him, _keep her safe_. He’s tired of the constant fear for her as he rationally knows she’s far more capable than she lets on, but he’s used to categorizing a person’s talent and putting them in the best place for success. And with her lack of experience of her newfound abilities, he’s been uncertain of her success even with her tenacity.

 _God, I'm such a hypocrite._

How many times had he gone headfirst into danger, act first, think later? Through their entire acquaintance, Steve had been shown again and again the courage that Darcy holds. It’s frustrating to not know exactly how far she can go, especially assured that she could throw caution to the wind and _attempt_ it.

_As I would do the same._

Darcy seems as frustrated about the situation as he does if the pangs in his mark are any indication. He feels a burn of shame as he realizes he’s pushed her into a corner once again, just like the time around his failed declaration of their Match status. Darcy’s bluster is so similar to that time, Steve suddenly understands what is left for him to do. A sigh escapes him as he realizes how simple it is.

_I need to trust her._

“I need to go see about Wakanda,” he mutters but doesn’t move away, savoring the quiet moment.

“I know,” she whispers, hands trailing along his neck. Darcy runs one of them down his left arm, turning his wrist over to glance at the mark that is glowing.

“I can see this,” she whispers, pulling back to look up at him earnestly. “Your mark is glowing, probably because of me, and I can see our connection.”

She lifts her left wrist and he can see her eyes follow a thread invisible to him.

“You saved me, you know,” she continues, looking thoughtful. “You keep saving me.”

Steve quirks a brow, waiting for her to expand on that statement.

“When Mordo attacked me in Norway, I wasn’t paying attention. He’d been downright jovial before, helping me find the path to make my way back into my body. So when the slightest comment set him off... I could only throw up my hands to protect my head. Do you need to protect your head if you’re only a soul?” she ponders aloud before shaking the thought away. “Anyways, your shield projected out of my mark, star and all. You saved me.”

“I haven’t seen that shield in years, Darcy,” he refutes quietly. She shrugs.

“Doesn’t make it any less yours. You once told me it was a prototype, right? One of many showcased? And you chose it. Ergo, it was designed around you. _You_ are a shield for the people you love.”

“I supposed that’s why my mark hurt so badly,” Steve says, watching as she uses her other hand to manipulate the empty space between their wrists. Something tugs against his mark and she looks contemplative.

“Was that what brought you and the team back?” Darcy asks, looking past their invisible mark to his eyes.

“Yeah. We’d run into a dead end anyway, but when my mark started fluctuating with pain, we immediately set home. That room in Norway, Darcy...” Steve trails off, anguish cutting into him as he remembers the panic. “It was completely scorched. I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry,” is the whisper she emits as she drops her arms to sidle closer to him. He wraps his arms around her and sighs.

“I’m sorry, too.”

* * *

“Hey.”

The greeting from Natasha as Steve enters the room prompts a solemn nod from him. He’s just left Darcy to prepare for the trip back to Wakanda, feelings more tempered from their argument and resolution. The command room is empty of anyone but Natasha who’s working with a computer.

“Get a hold of Shuri yet?” Steve asks, walking to her station. Natasha shakes her head.

“She was in the middle of ‘something critical’, but Okoye has given us the all clear to head that direction. I told her of Thanos’ possible return and she seemed to understand he could appear anywhere,” she explains. “At least in Wakanda, she has the option for controlling the situation better.”

Steve nods and throws himself down into a chair, sighing. Natasha continues to work on her console.

“You apologize to Darcy?” she asks airily. “I expect she wasn’t pleased about our ‘absconding into the night’ without her.”

“How did you know she wanted to come?” Steve replies, eyebrows raised. Natasha shoots him an _oh please_ look.

“By all reports, Foster never shied away from helping during a crisis, and with her gone, I think Darcy has lost some of the restraint she had to hold over Jane. The two of them _allowed_ us to be on that battlefield without them before because they knew they would be more useful in a different setting. But the horizon has changed and Darcy isn’t about to be left out. Unless, of course, we leave her behind,” Natasha explains as she types. “It would be far easier to plan with her than plan around her.”

“It’s hard to plan with her when she’s not being upfront about what she can do, though,” Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Darcy has downplayed everything of what she can do since she woke up.”

“Did she admit anything now?” Natasha asks, sending him a curious look.

“She admitted to leaving her body with her soul. She can see marks and manipulate them to a point. I have no idea beyond that, as that could mean anything. The only thing Darcy hasn't explained is how she knows things she shouldn't,” he replies, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. “She did say she can’t talk about it, as the ‘other plane’ could overhear and potentially attack her.”

“That seems convenient,” is Natasha’s mild comment. “But perhaps that’s the point. If she knows things, she may have contact with people who’ve put her - and us - on this path.”

Steve frowns, having not considered it that way before.

“You think she’s met with those who know how to fix this?”

Natasha glances down at her hands, a furrow appearing on her brow. “I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility, especially if she met someone dusted like Strange. Tony hasn’t told us much about his time on Titan, but he’s been adamant that Strange ‘had a plan.’ For all we know of the Kamar-Taj, they protected the Time Stone with their lives. Strange would not have relinquished that stone without a reason.”

The conversation drops as Clint walks in. Nodding at Steve, he sends a look to Natasha that Steve can’t decipher.

“How’s Lila?” she asks, voice light.

“Happy to see I’m back and uninjured. Not particularly happy about us leaving again so soon, but didn’t even mention about coming along. Granted, if Cassie had heard, we might have been roped into bringing all the Lang’s along,” he shrugs.

“The Lang’s? Scott is here?” Steve asks, frowning. “When did he arrive?”

Clint shuffles, looking sheepish.

“Arrived the other day before even Tony did. His daughter has been in cahoots with Lila, but Cassie’s mom and Pepper have been doing a great job keeping them busy and away from the general strife,” he explains. “He just cornered me in the hall, gave me an earful about what’s the point of him being here if we don’t think to bring him. Which, frankly, why didn’t we, Natasha?”

“You want to throw all our eggs in the same basket to an alien planet? Someone had to stay,” she mutters. “Thor is probably going to be similarly reamed by Valkyrie, who he left for mostly Darcy’s benefit. I knew I couldn’t convince any of you others, so Scott it was. He has the motivation with his daughter here and enough skill to manage it admirably.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him about your crush,” Clint sniggers out, which causes Natasha to shoot him an exasperated glance. “Speaking of...”

“ _Clint_ ,” she grinds out between her teeth.

“ _Natasha_ ,” he jovially stresses in reply.

Steve sits back in his chair, mildly amused at their interaction. It’d been a long time since he’d seen Clint and the scene is comfortingly familiar. While he can see the flashes of grief with Clint’s words about his daughter - the missing family members carefully skirted around - there’s a stability that at least the archer hasn’t changed in fundamentals. Clint is still the highly skilled archer who covers up the pain he’s carrying with all of his jokes.

Natasha’s glare to the other man is a bit more severe than usual. Steve’s eyebrows raise.

“Fine,” Clint huffs impatiently as he drops into a seat and throws a leg up on the table. “I suppose it’s our modus operandi, isn’t it?”

Natasha remains silent. Steve isn’t even sure she’s typing anything coherent with how furious her keystrokes are.

“Well, now that the gauntlet is shattered, what's the new plan on how to fix everything?” Clint leans his chair back on two legs, shifting the subject to something the two had obviously discussed prior. Steve can feel his expression turn serious as he realizes the ramifications of Thor’s action to try and destroy the gauntlet. It prevented Thanos from regaining it and destroying them at the time but now leads to a host of new problems.

“If we gather all of the pieces, maybe Thor can take it back to that place he had his axe forged?” Steve offers. “He spoke a little of that place with Rocket since he offered to get the ship they left there before heading here.”

“Tony is likely in the process of building something right now, which is why he has the stones with him in the lab,” Natasha’s expression is bland once again. “He didn’t just take them for safekeeping. I expect Thor is being grilled right now and all manner of tests are being placed on the stones.”

“So he builds a receptacle that can act like the gauntlet, and we’re back to square one?” Clint asks, looking disbelieving. “There has to be something else to do.”

Steve tilts his head, uncertain of what Clint is arguing against.

“What square one?”

“That even if we know someone who can handle the power of all the stones combined to revert this, how likely do you think it will be that that person will survive?”

Steve frowns. It’s something he had pushed to the back of his mind, unhappy with all of the potential options.

“We’ve discussed this before, Natasha. We don’t trade lives,” he states simply. Natasha snorts.

“Yeah, sure, _we_ don’t trade lives. But you do. Why else would you jump in front of Thanos for Vision to get away?” she refutes. “And just because you think we _shouldn’t_ doesn’t mean we _won’t_ , as we all followed suit and were quickly tossed aside in Thanos’ path to Vision.”

While Steve can see the hypocrisy of his actions pointed out by Natasha, he shrugs unapologetically.

“We’ll come to that problem when it arises. As soon as Thanos is dealt with, we’ll have time to research the proper steps to get everyone back,” he says.

“Strangely optimistic for you, Steve,” Clint says. “But doesn’t answer the question of who operates the damn thing, gauntlet or not.”

Steve remains silent. There isn’t an answer he can give with satisfaction.

“Feel like wrangling up some supplies, Steve?” Clint asks him, dropping his legs off the table as he stands up.

Steve shrugs. “Alright.”

Clint winks at Natasha who sends him a narrow look as they exit the room, heading down the hallway towards the armory.

“So, how was being a fugitive?” Clint asks mildly.

“Well, prior to Thanos, things were going fairly well. We kept busy. Pondered visiting you once or twice, but didn’t want to complicate things for your family,” Steve shrugs. 

“I appreciate that,” Clint gives a grim sort of smile. “You know, just because you feel guilty doesn’t mean you have to throw yourself into every danger Tony finds himself in.”

Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

_Ah, so this is why he wanted to talk to me._

“I owe him,” he finally mutters. “We’re able to work together during these critical moments, but when it’s over, he can barely look at me...”

“Any idea how long that’s going to last?” Clint asks.

“No. Indefinitely? Tony’s made efforts for Darcy, telling her he’d try to untangle the Avengers from the Accords,” Steve sighs. “But, honestly, I try to stay out of his way since he barely tolerates me.”

“Well, him being compared his whole life to the paradigm of your virtue by his father will do that,” Clint shrugs. “Talk about an impossible bar to reach...”

“That’s not me, Clint.”

“Oh, I know that. Honestly, I expect everyone _but_ Tony knows that. Or, he probably does but it’s hard to rectify against whatever damage Howard inflicted,” he replies.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees sadly as they turn a corner. “I can’t fault that. But... I definitely earned Tony’s anger. I’ve no one to blame but myself.”

“Depends on how you wronged him,” Clint scratches his chin as he considers Steve.

“I held information from him,” Steve mutters, not really sure he wants to explain.

“So? Nat and I do that all the time. We’ve both gone off the books to investigate things near and dear to our cold assassin hearts.”

“Yeah, but I should have prepared him. God knows I had the opportunity after the SHIELDRA dump and realizing the Winter Soldier was Bucky. Then he could have kicked me out ages before the Accords happened. Who knows, maybe it would have avoided that whole mess altogether,” Steve refutes. Clint shakes his head again.

“Ross had been working on the Accords in the background for years by the time he brought it to the team. Tony was even aware of it to an extent. Ross was just waiting for the best excuse to browbeat everyone into signing. I hate to say it, but you betrayed each other. Tony with handing over the team you and Nat built to the government without talking to _anyone_ about it, and you with whatever information you held on what Bucky was coerced to do,” Clint says. 

“The information we found in Siberia...” Steve begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, it wasn’t pretty. I understand Tony’s position, but Bucky wasn’t in his right mind. Might as well have been one of Ultron’s many puppets for all the things HYDRA made him do.”

“He murdered the elder Starks, didn’t he?” Clint asks conversationally like he’s referencing the weather.

Steve looks alarmed. “How did you-?”

“There’s only a handful of things that could have happened up in that bunker. I’ve been theorizing for ages what fucked up things happened there, but, y’know, that’s just my professional curiosity getting the better of me. Zemo was very intent on that specific date, as Natasha told me from watching the feed, so a quick search of news articles at the time... Not super hard spy stuff, Steve.”

“Zemo found old security footage of it and showcased it for us all to watch. We went in expecting to fight those five super soldiers and instead found that,” Steve mutters out an explanation, that dark hour heavy on his mind.

“Which proves Zemo pulled Barnes in on purpose since he was a highly effective path to breaking up the team. Zemo was going for the jugular, Steve. It was the only way it’d be effective,” Clint explains. “Natasha has just as checkered of a past. And God knows the guilt I have over New York could have been exploited as well. Barnes’ was just the easiest.”

“Easiest? He killed a handful of people to get the information on that mission report. Regardless, I still should have told Tony what I knew of Bucky’s past, coerced or otherwise,” Steve shakes his head at himself. “Instead I went searching for Bucky, a mad rush to find him before anyone else, and used Tony - and his resources - in the process.”

“Again, something Nat and I used to do all the time. It’s only because I started a family that I mostly stopped. And Nat seemed to have refrained as well, since finding something of a moral compass in following you as SHIELD ended up having a rotten core,” Clint shrugs. “Zemo just found the best opportunity.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No, but isn’t it interesting how it happened before you met your Match? She’s been in the peripherals for years, and yet was completely absent in the throwdown between you and her dad,” Clint mentions casually, looking thoughtful.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks.

“I mean, I didn’t hear much about your Matching with Lewis, but it was conveyed that it was more difficult than it needed to be. She seems to be just as stubborn as you and Tony. Who best to bring you both back together?” Clint shrugs. “She’s introduced to us by the only offworlder of our group, a neutral party. Doesn’t know either of you, beyond tabloid junk and Thor’s stories. Not to mention us, where Thor spoke of her and Foster often, yet we pushed the two of them aside for _years_.”

“Well, Darcy and I had a Timer. We couldn’t have met earlier,” Steve says. Clint snorts.

“Like people don’t subvert mark expectations every day. Tony and Pepper Matched years after they’d first met. Natasha was just slapped in the face with who her Match is after-”

“Wait, what?” Steve asks sharply. “Natasha has a reciprocal Match?”

“Yes,” Clint says simply, staring at Steve’s confused face a long moment. “Oh, for Pete’s sake... no wonder no one noticed, you’re all hopeless."

“Who is it?” Steve demands. “She’s been touting a ‘one way Match’ story for months.”

Clint just grins.

“You’ll have to ask Nat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to slow down a taaaad. Huzzah? It's looking right now to be 31 chapters. I'm irked at the odd number, but 'realize' was an odd number as well so I just guess this is the way I operate. 
> 
> Hopefully, I touched on enough in their fight that we're not all tearing our hair out in frustration. And Clint, oh, so useful with his pointing things out. Lots of love sent to Clint.
> 
> *small 6 hour post-posting edit around Steve's thoughts during their discussion. I woke up with a writers tingle 'thaaat's not quite right.'


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy is sitting on a crate with her eyes closed, leaning against another set of stacks ones. Enjoying the ‘quiet’ of the _Commodore_ being loaded as they’re about to set off to Wakanda, she’s trying hard not to fall asleep. She can hear different members of the team coordinating with each other, Valkyrie already on the ship to start the flight checklist. The noise is soothing, the mix of Bruce’s soft tones against Thor’s booming voice, Pepper rattling off information to Natasha quickly, a cacophony of sound that Darcy feels herself sinking into. 

“Whoa,” Clint appears next to her, pushing her shoulder up as she begins to slip off the crate. “You alright there, Lewis?”

Darcy rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms, nodding. “Just tired. I’ve been kind of running low on sleep lately.”

Clint eyes her a moment as if assessing the truth of the statement and nods. “C’mon. We’ll set you up somewhere while they figure out what to do with all... that.”

He nods his head at the crates, grabbing the small pack she is clinging to from her and motioning her into the ship. Darcy follows him, uncertain of why he’s even talking to her.

Leading her to the back of the ship where different containers have made their home, he rummages through one for a moment and pulls out a pack that is obviously a sleeping bag. It instantly puffs with air as he pulls it out and Darcy gives him an incredulous look as he begins to set it up under a metal staircase, out of the way.

“Let me guess. Nightmares?” Clint asks conversationally as he spreads it out.

“Something like that,” she grumbles, a bit at a loss of what to say to the man. Sure, she knew from Natasha that he had been around for Thor’s touchdown years ago, but they hadn’t interacted at the time. And while she’s befriended his daughter, Clint himself is still unknown.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, stepping back from the sleeping bag and motioning to it. Darcy isn’t fooled by the nonchalance in the least.

“No,” she scrubs her face with her hands again, sitting down on the sleeping bag. It’s surprisingly soft considering the metal flooring. Darcy is a bit wary of actually trying to lay down and fall asleep, especially with the potential of Mistress Death lurking there. “Thanks for finding me a corner.”

Clint leans against the stairs, eyeing her thoughtfully.

“What?” Darcy sighs.

“Just trying to figure out how you fit in all of this.”

She snorts in reply. “You and me both, pal.”

“I mean, I only got a glance at you in New Mexico, but you’re different from then. You look like shit,” he kicks a leg out with his statement.

“Thanks. Glad the bloom of my youth is gone,” Darcy replies drily.

“Well, what happened to you?” Clint asks.

“What’s up with your kid being so adorable? She definitely didn’t get it from you,” Darcy changes the subject abruptly, not in the mood for any sort of prying.

Clint’s expression shutters a bit, eyes narrowing as he considers her volley.

“I’m glad she has such distractions in New York,” Darcy continues conversationally. “Must be nice to not have to worry about her when we’re gone, right?”

“Yeah, the Lang’s have been very helpful,” Clint says to which Darcy nods.

“Cassie seems like she’s taken to Lila immensely, and Maggie is nice. I have no idea why Scott is here, though. Ant-man? What is that even supposed to mean? At least Spider-man I can envision-” Darcy begins to ponder aloud. She’s kind of curious to see what Clint might tell her.

“He’s got some fancy tech that gives him the ‘Honey, We Shrunk Ourselves’ powers. Or ‘Blew Us Up’. Depends on the situation,” Clint explains with a shrug.

“Ah. Sounds interesting,” Darcy chuckles under her breath, shaking her head. “I had this weird thought of him building an ant colony out of nothing, so tech makes more sense. I couldn’t figure out how he got pulled into this.”

“He was in Leipzig. Sam knew him and tasked me with bringing him before that scene at the airport. Good thing, too, the dude provided a solid distraction.” 

Darcy tilts her head. “Until he was incarcerated, like you?”

“How would you-” Clint frowns.

“Oh, there were all sorts of fun things to read in the Tower when I was here for a couple months. That particular file went out of its way to vilify Steve but was stripped clean of anyone else. All I knew was that there was a fight with _some_ of 'Captain Rogers rogue enhanced individuals’, Rhodey got hurt, 'the deviants' were apprehended and incarcerated, Natasha somehow escaped with only a reprimand, and Tony was picked up in Siberia later. Although considering what happened in Siberia, I’m not surprised at the heavy-handed redactions.”

“What happened in Siberia?” he asks, leaning forward keenly. Darcy hums, uncertain if she really meant to redirect the conversation away from her this far. 

“Natasha didn’t tell you?” she finally responds, vaguely aware of how deep his kinship is with the female spy.

“Natasha wasn’t there, was she?” Clint refutes.

“Neither was I.”

“But you’re Matched with the person who was, and the daughter of another person who was. Chances are you know more than anyone else, barring those involved.”

Darcy squints up at him, considering.

“Siberia was where a man was holding grief like a gun. Loaded up with bullets of the irrefutable fact of the vicious misdeeds of a conditioned man who murdered Howard and Maria Stark,” Darcy finally decides on. “It was a trap to bring discord to your team. Obviously pretty successful, right? You were presumably incarcerated, Steve and Nat went on the run, Tony was left as a lonely island as Bruce and Thor were gone. Just... bang bang. He shot the Avengers down.”

Clint doesn’t look surprised at all, which makes Darcy roll her eyes.

“You already knew that, didn’t you?” Darcy asks with a frustrated huff. “ _Spies._ ”

“Well, being stuck between Steve and Tony, I wanted to make sure you knew what you were up against.”

“Yeah, I sort of know what happened as it was just kind of dumped on me out of the blue, but there’s _still_ stuff I haven’t figured out,” she grumbles, rubbing her forehead.

“Surprised Tony wanted you to have anything to do with Steve,” Clint remarks.

Darcy snorts again. “Technically, he didn’t. He sent me as a messenger to warn _Wanda_ about the upcoming doom, to try to convince her to come back."

Clint's expression shutters once again, a reflex that Darcy barely catches before continuing.

"I had no idea I’d be meeting Steve instead, who had his own reasons for meeting me, but that’s a whole other story. But Tony didn’t know about our tenuous Match status at all until later when he was helping Steve pull me out of a secret military hospital and Steve blurted it out," she finishes.

“Blurted it out?” his eyebrows raise.

“I may or may not have drugged Steve moments prior-”

Clint bursts out with a laugh that even seems to surprise him. “You what?”

“Hey, it was the only weapon I had at the time and I didn’t know it was him!” she says defensively. He pitches forward with laughter, shaking his head. Darcy waits in exasperation.

“Nat didn’t tell me _that_.”

“She doesn’t know,” Darcy says. “But Tony did think to warn someone from Steve’s errant team.”

“And the best person he thought to send was his own daughter?”

Darcy snorts again. “No, we didn’t find that out till, uh, later. I’d been singled out for...” she hesitates, “...reasons and Ross had a whole elaborate plan with a guy named Hector to... y’know, nevermind. Just... Tony sent me because I was technically a neutral party or something.”

Clint ponders this, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Checks out, I guess. I’m struggling to think of anyone else who would be the appropriate level of efficient and not balk at Steve’s patriotic presence. Send the girl who tased a god.”

“Hey!”

“I’m suddenly very glad it’s taken us this long to meet,” Clint grins at her.

“You’re fucking cheeky, Barton,” she grumbles without malice. 

Clint winks as he leaves the room.

* * *

A few minutes later, Clint finds a small room that holds Natasha overlooking some maps and sits down next to her. He feels heavy with the reminder of Wanda, Lewis obviously having no idea of how responsible he feels for the witch. Clint kicks back in his seat, pulling out a scrap of paper out of his pocket. Unfolding it gently, he looks at the photo of his family smiling back at him as he feels the ship take off.

_God, I wish you were here, Laura._

A hiss of breath escaping Natasha prompts Clint to glance over at her. 

“Something up, Nat?” he asks, standing to look over her shoulder at the console.

“No,” she grits out, expression dark.

Clint gives her a suspicious squint, but before he can ask further, Steve appears.

“Hey, have you seen Darcy?” Steve asks. Clint nods.

“I set her up in the cargo hold for a nap. She about keeled over waiting for us to get our shit together,” he replies.

“Oh,” Steve drops into the seat across from him and nods somberly. “Thanks. I got caught up in a call with Rhodey before Tony interrupted-”

"How is it going in DC?" Clint asks. Steve sighs.

"Not well," he replies shortly. "This is probably the last day or two before Ross does something drastic. I don't envy Rhodey trying to run interference for us."

"Is Ross better or worse than dealing with Thanos?" Clint ponders aloud with a snort. Steve sends him a conflicted look.

“Well, we should be in Wakanda within six hours,” Natasha says in a slightly pitched voice, reading her console. “The scanners are quiet, so it doesn’t look like Thanos is sending an invasion like last time.”

Clint had seen the footage from the battle at Wakanda. He’s glad at the absence of the tall triangular spires that had crashed onto the earth with a bevy of enemies. Even Clint knows he’d have trouble pushing back that amount of creatures.

“From what Rocket's been telling us, it takes years to coordinate that amount of space travel, so the Outrider's attack had to be a culmination of work since the Chitauri attack on New York. So Thanos' next move will probably come from other quarters. I'm not going to lie, it's going to be almost impossible to do all the things we need to. After we hide the stones we have-” Steve says.

“Hide them?” Clint asks in surprise. “You think we can hide them any better than they were before? Especially on one planet?”

“Secure them? Is that a better word? Wakanda has vast vibranium caves. Assuming we can get them in there fast enough, they should be-”

“We need them, Steve,” Natasha breaks in with a wince. Clint frowns at her again.

_Something is hurting her._

“Why? Tony was almost disintegrated by one. Bruce was mauled by another,” Steve sighs. “Putting them aside while we get the other ones is probably the safest-”

“We’re not about _safety_ , Steve. The safest thing would have been leaving them alone on Zen-Whoberi,” Natasha argues with a grim look. “However, our hand is forced since everything is failing anyways. So if he comes and destroys us all, it won’t even matter since eventually there will be nothing left."

Steve quirks an eyebrow at her and Clint knows he’s not holding the look of surprise away from his face.

“Nat-”

“I’ve spent my whole life reading signs on how a situation will go. Facial quirks, political climates, a single person’s motivations when you threaten their livelihood. If you have spent any time since Thanos’ snap looking over how the world is operating right now, you’ll know that agriculture is failing. All of the world’s governments are calling for blood over the loss of 4 billion people. How long do you think things will remain peaceful with so much destruction?” Natasha grumbles out. “Half of our livestock disappeared. Food shortages are moments from becoming widespread since farming is failing and everything down that path leads to demise.”

“Agriculture is failing?” Steve asks. 

Natasha gives a grim nod. “Pepper confirmed it all the way down. Why do you think Rhodey’s been having so much trouble with the Council? He's feeding them the very barest of details of our mission, but we only have another week or so before the public figures _that_ out. And between the information you brought back from Krylor and the scans we took of Zen-Whoberi... it’s not only Earth.”

“Thanos doomed the universe, huh?” Clint says in a dark voice. “Maybe the dusted were the lucky ones.”

“Maybe,” Natasha says placidly. “Either way, how long do you think any sort of vibranium safe would keep them secure? He has the Power Stone, he could just blast through any opposition. We are way past the option of keeping them safe, Rogers. We have to figure out how to utilize them.”

* * *

_Darcy stiffens the moment she realizes she’s in the dreamscape again. It’s a jarring, uncomfortable way of ‘waking’ for Mistress Death to employ. She instantly steps back, overwhelmed by the anger radiating off of the titan she finds herself next to. He's sitting on the ground outside a building where there's a large mass of people gathered. He stands abruptly and tries to push his way back in but is barred._

_“Get out of here, Thanos. We won't listen to your ludicrous ideas any longer,” the titan at the door says, pointing out._

_“Our world is destined for extinction if you don't do something!” Thanos argues to no avail. Hissing in frustration, he turns on his heel and leaves._

_“So full of rage,” Mistress Death appears next to Darcy as she follows Thanos. “He has been angry for years at this point, disappointed in his quest to find me. Ever since he saw me, he held a singular purpose in chasing me. He obsessed over his mother at her deathbed, hoping for a glimpse at me, and again when his father succumbed a few weeks before this point. His idea of a worldwide purge was rejected and now he’s ridiculed. He is a selfish creature, however, and thinks murdering millions would bring him closer to me.”_

_Darcy hums to show she's listening, uncertain of where Thanos is heading._

_“The planet’s troubles had started centuries before this. The famine and subsequent illness that took his parents forced a discussion on a person’s right to food which prompted policy that kept him alive,” the mistress continues. “However, it is too late. Irresponsible stewardship of their planet caused this.”_

_“Sounds familiar,” Darcy grumbles which prompts a curious glance from Mistress Death._

_Thanos makes his way through the streets and enters an alley which leads to a large door, open and lit brightly. There are a handful of titans around, arguing amongst each other, gesturing wildly with their hands. Thanos frowns at the hastily scribbled sign slapped over the placard on the building._

_“You can see, he's too late for his weekly ration,” Mistress Death explains softly. “I had not thought this would happen this way. I should have.”_

_“That what would happen?” Darcy asks._

_He sits down on the ground, the very picture of defeat. The moments pass in silence as Darcy gets more uneasy about Thanos remaining so quiet and still._

_A gaunt woman comes around the corner, jogging quickly to the same gateway. She comes to a stop slowly, staring at the space with reluctant acceptance. Glancing at him, she speaks._

_“There's no more, is there?”_

_Thanos entire form stiffens, eyebrows raising as he turns to her in disbelief._

_His reaction is so telegraphed, Darcy feels her mouth drop open. “You marked **him**?”_

_“Despite your tales, mortal, marks do not determine how good or not a person is. So many matchless are sacrificed for nothing. It is your choice to accept my gift or not.”_

_“But why him?”_

_“He is desperate. Giving him hope is the most common tool I have to work with. Unfortunately, I marked him too late. Instead of being hopeful for the future, he cut his Words off the skin of his leg, as you saw before. He rejected my gift to bargain for me.”_

_Darcy can feel the frustration rolling off of Mistress Death and remains silent as Thanos slowly stands. The titan woman glances at him warily, taking a few steps back._

_“I will take care of you,” Thanos replies softly, holding out a hand._

_The woman’s eyes bloom with joy, and Darcy can see rational thought wash away from the woman’s senses almost immediately. She has all the characters of a person down on their luck, half-starved and expecting the worst, but this moment gives her hope._

_“Is it true?” the woman whispers. “I thought I'd die before meeting you.”_

_Thanos remains silent and after a pregnant pause, the woman takes his hand. He seems disinclined for words, leading her away from the ration station._

_“I thought the food station was supposed to be open for a few more hours,” she mumbles, apparently embarrassed._

_“It was,” Thanos replies. “They've been running out of provisions all over the city.”_

_“How do you know?” she asks._

_“My father used to be on the council. This was foreseen months ago before he died.”_

_“Oh,” she says. Darcy feels concern rise as Thanos leads them to an area more remote. The woman seems to notice this as well, but the relief at finding her Match is overruling her good sense._

_“Where is he taking her?” Darcy asks, hands fidgeting as they follow the pair around a dark corner._

_Mistress Death glances at her solemnly._

_Thanos turns. In an instant he has a blade in his hand, pulling the woman close to a wall. In one smooth motion, he slides it across her throat._

_Darcy recoils, a horrified gasp escaping her. “Oh my god, no!”_

_The woman’s surprise is clouded with betrayal, eyes wide and horrified. She calls out in a garbled spurt of blood that is unintelligible. Purple liquid sprays out of her, splattering Darcy’s arms and she flinches. Thanos turns again, cradling the dying titan female in his arms as he leans against the wall and sinks to the ground._

_“This is a kindness,” he croons to the woman without remorse. “She will see this and come to bless you.”_

_“What the **fuck**?” Darcy demands at Mistress Death._

_Mistress Death remains impassive as she watches the scene silently. The death is quick for the woman, the Match of Thanos, and Mistress Death leans down to touch the woman’s brow with a gentle hand. A small light escapes the woman and into Death’s hand, being enveloped into the shadowy folds of her arms._

_Thanos glances up, eyes focusing on her._

_“Mistress?” he whispers out._

_“ **Fuck you** , you bastard!” Darcy leans over to yell down at him from her position next to Mistress Death. “She was your Match!”_

_His eyes dart from Mistress Death to Darcy. He frowns before glancing back at the shadow woman._

_“She was the last one for me to give you, my mistress. Are you not pleased, my lady?”_

_The intensity of his plea to the Mistress makes Darcy shiver. She suddenly can feel the blood that has splattered all over her seeping into her pores, his cruelty so poignant that disgust overwhelms her. Mistress Death turns to Darcy with a tilt of her head, and the scenery pulls away, leaving Thanos alone as they slide into a void._

_“This was the path he chose.”_

_“What path? Believing he has to sacrifice those closest to him to get a glimpse of you? His quest to destroy half of the galaxy, bringing balance for **you**... he’s...” Darcy finds herself out of breath, repulsed by a concept so horrifically evil. “He’s beyond.”_

_“You are correct. I will not take such a tainted being.”_

_“What do you mean you won’t **take** him?” Darcy demands. “Isn’t that your job?”_

_“It would only be a reward for his endless path of destruction. You will have to find another way. **I will not take him**.”_

Darcy awakens with a sharp inhale, sitting up from her makeshift bed under a metal staircase. Her heart is pounding as she takes big gulps of air, adrenaline pumping through her at an accelerated beat. Focusing on slowing her heartbeat, she runs her fingers against her scalp to tug on her hair, hunching over her legs.

_I will not take him._

A bang sounds like a tool being dropped.

“Hey,” Tony’s voice says next to her softly, and she can’t help the small laugh burst out of her.

“It’s all fucked,” Darcy hisses out. 

_I will not take him._

“What?” Tony asks in alarm.

Darcy shakes her head, feeling a pit of despair grow in her gut.

_How many people have to die in his courtship to Mistress Death who scorns him?_

The dream begins to repeat in her head, Thanos’ large hands running the blade over that poor woman’s skin, the blood bursting out, spreading the area. A panic overtakes her without her meaning to, breaths turning shallow as she looks up with unseeing eyes.

“Darcy.”

She can barely hear the call of her name over the roaring of her ears. Darcy is mildly aware of Tony dropping down next to her as she finally finds the words in her head to begin chanting.

_This is only a moment. A moment. A moment._

“A moment, a moment,” Darcy whispers out unevenly as her breaths begin to slow. Tony places a hand on her arms, trying to pull her hands out of her hair.

“Half Pint-” he starts.

“This is only a moment,” she mumbles, finally calming down to feel the tears slipping down her cheeks. He manages to get her arms pulled down to stop the ravaging of her hair. “A moment.”

“Darcy,” Tony says again. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Darcy shakes her head, sniffling. “He killed her, Tony.”

“Who? Thanos?”

She nods, pulling a hand back to swipe at her cheeks. “She looked so happy. She was so gaunt and hungry and tired, but then he said her Words and she just _lit up_ and he took her someplace secluded and _slit her throat_ and _I can’t stop seeing her eyes_.”

Darcy bursts into proper tears.

Tony hesitates a moment before leaning over and pulling her into a hug. The uncertainty of it makes her blink, distracting her from her tears as she sinks into his arms, a calm washing over her as he pats her head.

“I get dreams, too, Half Pint. Everyone laid out in the stillness of death. Which is why I sent you with Visions dream, it was... kinder than any of mine,” he murmurs, patting awkwardly. “I’d like to say it gets better, but it doesn’t. Not really.”

“‘Another reason for the alcoholism’,” Darcy mumbles out, quoting him from another time. Tony snorts softly.

“Right.”

“I wish it didn’t hurt so much,” she admits softly into his shirt.

Tony remains silent for a moment. She’s about to peek up at his face when he sighs.

“Me, too.”

Another pregnant pause passes and Darcy finally pushes away from him. He releases her before standing up, a bit of awkward shuffling making itself apparent.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” she offers before he can walk away.

“What for?”

“I said I wouldn’t punish you for any ‘sinister motives’ but, y’know, that was a lot easier when I was in Wakanda pretending to have nothing to do with you,” Darcy explains softly with a sniff, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “But the idea at being somehow attached to all the grandeur of being a Stark is... mildly terrifying.”

“It’s fine,” Tony shrugs, picking up his tool and an object from his makeshift desk of a crate.

“It’s really not,” she refutes, wrinkling her nose. “Especially since I really have no conception of what that means. I enjoy living in a shoebox, unknown to all. Now I have to contend with being the daughter of a millionaire and the Match to the most famously virtuous man in America.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Billionaire, thank you very much.”

“Details, details.”

“You can live in whatever shoebox you want,” he offers. “I mean, it might be a very _secure_ shoebox, but who am I to tell you where to live-”

Darcy picks herself up from the floor with a slight smile. “Sounds fair.”

At that moment, the cargo door opens and Steve appears. Tony visibly tenses, turning all of his attention back to his project by picking up a tool and ignoring the other man.

“Oh, good,” Darcy says. “You two can finally hash this out.”

“We can what?” Steve asks warily as he walks over to her. “Are you okay?”

He rubs his wrist to convey that her panic attack a moment ago hadn’t gone unnoticed. Darcy nods.

“I had a bit of a nightmare during my nap,” she explains, shrugging. “It’s fine. But there are more important things to worry about. Barring an attack on the ship, this is probably the only opportunity you two will have to talk. So. Talk.”

Darcy looks back and forth between the two of them. Steve has a rather grim look on his face and Tony drops his tools back down with a sigh. She shrugs, grabbing her small pack off the floor by her makeshift bed and heads to the exit.

“Fix your shit, you two,” Darcy calls out as she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of information jammed into this one. Mildly terrified I'm forgetting something drastically important, but to be honest, I get that feeling every time I post.
> 
> The next chapter is shorter due to the sheer emotional weight of it.
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, it's here early! Thank you Travililah and seibelsays and grimeysociety for all their lovely encouragement behind the scenes. <3

A bit of turbulence has Darcy grabbing hold of the wall as she decides to wait for Steve. She knows the discussion that she left is long overdue, but like hell if she was going to stay in there and directly referee. 

_They just need to stop for once in their life, without another crisis to interrupt them, and **talk**._

Darcy sighs, leaning her head against the wall as she slides down to the ground. Resting her elbows on her knees, she stares into space, trying very hard not to think of the horrible dream or what is inevitably coming for them. The only assurance that time passes is with the steady lull of the ship’s thrusters.

“Darcy?”

Startling, Darcy looks up to see Bruce standing over her with grim concern.

“Hi,” she says.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks.

_I'm fine._

Darcy mentally trips over the word, realize that _no_ , she’s not fine. She’s exhausted. If she sleeps, she dreams of maniacs murdering people. When the stress becomes too much, she passes out and falls into other realms. And if she tells anyone, she’s attacked in a way no one can help her with.

“No,” is her soft reply.

Bruce throws himself onto the ground next to her and nods. “Agreed.”

Raising her eyebrows, Darcy follows his dropping movements with her eyes in silence.

“I can hear Hulk,” Bruce whispers. “Before... there was always this gap, you know? Like we spoke different languages and could never find the common ground to translate with. It’s like the Mind Stone built a bridge to facilitate it.”

“Surely you communicated a little bit. You yelled at him about me drink-bargaining with you and Valkyrie,” Darcy points out.

“I don’t know if that was _yelling_ as so much just giving him a lot of foreboding feelings.”

“Really.”

Bruce sighs. “This is an entirely new way of him talking to me. He surprised me in Norway when Valkyrie arrived, because he knew her loyalty and that she wouldn’t betray him to Ross. You didn’t hurt either, proving yourself by chasing away the men in suits. But before that, he refused to help the last time Thanos came. I thought he was simply scared of him, but it was more than just that... he’s always _hunted_ on Earth and thought I would keep him safe.”

“Safe? Really?” Darcy asks.

“From Ross. If I’m human, Ross can’t get away with experiments on us,” he explains softly. “Granted, _I_ know Ross doesn’t give a shit either way, but Hulk isn’t exactly known for his wisdom.”

“Oh, oh. Hulk is hiding behind _you_. That has to be the most adorably misguided-” 

“Hey, I’m not useless. I do have seven Ph.D’s, you know-”

“-thing I have ever heard. I just want to hug him. Poor Hulk,” Darcy finishes. “So why does this mean you’re not alright? Objectively, coming out from the Mind Stone with a better way to communicate with your ‘little problem’ is a win, right?”

“He won’t _shut up_ ,” Bruce pulls at his neck in frustration. “It’s only been a couple of hours, but it’s like I’m getting years of backlog, each and every thought that’s ever flitted through his head. I figured I’d try to nap during this time, recharge a bit before whatever crisis is waiting for us when we touch down, but he’s not stopping. It’s not even _interesting_ things.”

“Like what?” Darcy asks.

“Did you know,” Bruce begins conspiratorially. “That Natasha’s hair is _red_? And who is this weird imposter with _blonde_ hair?”

Darcy can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes her. “Blonde or not, she’ll still kick your ass.”

“Undoubtedly,” Bruce gives a strained smile. “He’s been critical of everyone. Where did Thor’s hair go and why does Steve have a beard and it’s quite exhausting trying to reassure him that yes, things change... which he irrationally resents. It’s not like they were going to stay in a vacuum for years. He’s oddly silent of Tony considering how grey Tony has gotten-”

“Rude,” Darcy snorts which causes Bruce to shrug.

“But it’s like an overgrown toddler is running amuck in my head.”

Darcy tilts her head, squinting. Bruce’s soul is shimmering with more of a green hue than before, but that could mean anything. 

“Wish I could help you, doc,” she says. “Maybe a lullaby?”

Bruce frowns at her.

“Y’know, _you are my sunshine, my only sunshine_ ,” Darcy begins in a soft singing voice. “ _You make me happy when skies are grey..._ ”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry, pretty sure Hulk would see right through that.”

Darcy shrugs.

“Worth a shot, anyway.” 

“So why are you out here alone? I figured you would be with Steve as he worked on last minute plans,” Bruce asks. She nods to the cargo door.

“He’s in there,” she explains. “He and Tony are going over the breakup.”

“The breakup?” Bruce asks, alarmed, glancing at the door. “You mean-”

“Yeah, there’s more than just the Accords drama for them to work through. The beauty of being locked in a ship without exits is neither one can really storm out, can they?” Darcy gives a sad smile. “They better resolve _something_.”

* * *

After Darcy so eloquently leaves, Steve shuffles his feet a bit, glancing warily at Tony. The man is leaning over his workspace, shoulders hunched and eyes closed. Steve can almost see him gird his mental loins for the argument about to take place.

The moment hangs as Steve struggles to find words to begin. He thinks of the momentary truce of being caught in the pocket of time, helping Tony without question, and Tony looks even less inclined for this conversation than he is. Nevertheless, Steve would rather not go into another battle with Thanos without knowing he at least _tried_ to make things right with Tony.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out that way, Tony,” Steve begins, hands held up in a placating manner. Tony finally glances at him like he’s grown another head, shifting his stance to face Steve.

“Oh, that's where you want to start this? Well, apart from the fact that was indeed how I found out, what else did you have planned? Something akin to a gender reveal party, maybe, open the box with red and black balloons, ‘ _surprise_ , here’s the information on your parents' _murder_ ’?” Tony bites out angrily.

“I thought there’d be an opportunity... I should have told you my suspicions as soon as I knew,” Steve replies, shoulders hunched in defeat. “But then I would have been cut loose from the team I helped build, and maybe not labeled a fugitive, but definitely not in any position to bring Bu-”

Tony interrupts him with a sharp voice. “You know, it’s not all about Barnes.”

Steve blinks as if the concept of it being anything else is completely foreign.

“Erm,” Steve begins, floundering for a moment. “It’s... not? I know you aren’t keen on me being Darcy’s Match...”

Tony emits a sound of disbelief. “Honestly, I’m almost convinced that _that_ is a sort of bizarre justice of the universe punishing me for not knowing about her sooner.”

“Then... what?” Steve asks.

Tony pushes off from the crate and begins to pace, obviously unsure where to begin. Finally, he mutters, “You never met my mom, did you?”

“No, I didn’t have the privilege,” Steve agrees warily. “I was in the ice years before they met, I think.”

“She was by far the kindest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I’m biased as her son, sure, but even good old Howard was charmed by her. Stopped his philandering ways and all. But despite loving her, marrying her... he was also seeing a mistress of war that she never could compete with.”

Steve narrows his eyes a bit, uncertain of where the story is leading.

“He would always regale stories to the young and impressionable me of ‘the good old days’ of war and espionage that he was involved in. Helping the Howlie's on their most dangerous mission yet, oh, they needed that invention for the SSA and how instrumental he was. It’s why he was always busy with his workshop, operatives showing up in the middle of the night, a regular Q to all of that James Bond shit and my mother bore it all with patience,” Tony shakes his head. “Dad may have stopped wandering from bed to bed, but he certainly didn’t stop wandering from mission to mission, building the foundation of SHIELD.”

“What are you getting at, Tony?” Steve asks.

“He never got over the guilt he carried for failing his _friends_. That maybe if he’d designed something better, Barnes wouldn’t have fallen. You wouldn’t have frozen. He searched for you for years, wasting money on dives that amounted to nothing. He was _your_ friend.”

“I know that! Hell, I know it better than you, since it was less than a decade ago for me!” Steve says sharply. Tony purses his lips and shakes his head.

“That war bonded Dad to a life that he never fully left, and in doing so, he put a lot of innocent people at risk. My mom paid that price,” Tony states softly. A moment passes before he emits a small chuckle. “Why do you think I believed in the Accords so strongly? If something like it had been in place, there would have been an official conveyance of highly trained people transporting that serum, not my misguided father and ignorant mother in a car on some dark back alley road.”

“And that’s my fault? Bucky’s fault? For Howard not being able to set aside the war?” Steve asks, rather affronted. Tony shakes his head.

“How could it be? Both of you were ‘dead’. But, see, now we come to _our_ story. I hated you since I was a boy, easily done with the stars in dad’s eyes, and god damn it, Rogers, I told you before... you were so fucking...” Tony grapples with his hair in frustration. “So _perfect_. The perfect friend. An ally to rely on. Just like dad always idolized.” 

It takes everything in Steve to stay silent, denial on his lips. He's far from perfect but knows any comment he makes could break the honesty that is pouring out of Tony. The dark haired man takes a moment to breathe, before continuing. “You were someone I thought I could rely on. And you chose someone el-...” Tony shakes his head, trying again. “Chose to destroy the team.”

Steve bristles. 

“ _I_ destroyed it? I’m the one who brought a 200 page document for us to read in _two days_? Which we were instructed, neigh, _demanded_ to sign without any idea of what it _said_ while dealing with the emotional fallout of the Lagos accident?” Steve argues, raising his arms incredulously. “Say what you will about _my_ mistakes, you ambushing the team after we were already down-”

“ _Ambushing?_ Why do you think I brought Ross to the Tower so fast? I knew we had to get in front of the press, it was already spiraling out of control-”

“You brought Ross in without _discussing it with us first!_ ” Steve yells.

Tony straightens, his turn to look affronted.

“How long had the Accords document been circling the political ring, Tony?” Steve asks. “I know politicians are fluent in bullshit, and while that document had some spotty parts, it definitely was not the work of a _week_.”

“Fine. You’re right. It was in the works for a couple years,” Tony begrudgingly admits.

“A couple _years?_ ” Steve shakes his head. “God, how long as Ross been in your head, Tony?”

“Ross isn’t in my head, _Thanos is!_ ” Tony roars back at him. “I’ve had nightmares since falling out of that portal over New York since I saw a _terrifying future_ and it’s just a sea of bodies and _why didn’t you do more?_ So I _did_ do more and managed to birth the most horrifying and wonderful artificial intelligence to keep us safe, but that...” he breaks off, voice dropping as he tries again. “Hurt people. Again. I failed as dad did.”

Tony seems to reflect on this thought before shaking himself. He walks right up into Steve’s space and gives him a hard look.

“So I recalculated. I found the option that was best for all of us. Despite your apple pie personality, I know that you don’t give a shit about any rules but your own, and that document was meant to protect us when you’d inevitably go too far. I was covering all of our asses with the tools given to me with modern democracy and a _shit ton_ of money. The sort of protection that isn’t afforded many people unless they’re lucky enough to have connections to lawyers who know how to wiggle their way out of vigilante charges!”

“Yeah, you can momentarily buy a politician and a piece of paper, congratulations. What good does it do when they have their own agendas?” Steve glares back down at Tony. “For someone so against keeping innocents from danger, you didn’t seem to have a problem throwing your _daughter_ into it. Darcy found out firsthand what Ross-”

Tony’s fist connects with Steve’s face before he even quite realizes it. Falling back, Steve rubs his jaw at the mild ache that blooms there for a moment, a strange relief filling him. Physical fights were always easier for him than struggling for words to explain his point of view. Maybe, _maybe_ , if Tony isn’t barred from what he really wants to do or say... maybe then they can finally get past this.

Tony looks furious but even a little surprised at his actions, rubbing his hand.

“Even if I had known who Darcy was, it wouldn’t have made a difference. She did not blindly go on that mission - _towards you!_ \- without an idea of the danger. She had a choice, at any moment, to say no. My mom didn’t. Howard and his _friends_ killed her with their negligence. And you chose to cover the sins of _all_ your war buddies,” Tony finally mutters, sitting down the ground. He props an arm up on a leg as he stares at his feet hollowly.

Steve stalks over to the hull to collect his thoughts, the sheer layers of their quarrel making him pause and collect his thoughts. He meanders down memory lane of his friendships with the two Stark men. 

The Howard that Steve remembers was distant to newcomers, dismissing people rudely for his projects until a skirt would prove interesting enough. Truly an asshole without even particularly trying. But ‘40s society had a more rigid worldview, demanding social niceties that eventually paved a way to an easy albeit unusual friendship, facilitated by their constant interactions during the war.

After Steve had come out of the ice, he’d heard Howard had a son, succeeded him even. Steve had felt proud for his friend... until he’d actually met Tony.

Steve can remember being taken aback by the cynicism that Tony wore like a badge of honor. The physical resemblance was uncanny, that swagger and easy dismissal right out of Howard’s book. However, Tony would use cutting sarcasm often, keeping Steve in check from offering a closer friendship. 

Until the end of the world came spilling from the sky with enemies pouring from a portal hovering ominously over New York. Steve can still remember the relief at Tony waking up from his prone position on the ground. The smile that had spread over his face at Tony’s voice pitched high in exhilaration saying, “Hurray, good job guys!” That was the first turning point of their friendship, that afternoon getting shawarma amid a ruined New York backdrop. 

But then everyone split up. Steve went to SHIELD in D.C. with Fury and Tony spent his time in New York or Malibu. The few times he did travel upstate, they didn’t interact much. There were shindigs that only a Stark could throw that Steve always attended, but they were filled with so many sycophants that he began to skip them. Steve also learned to keep any memories of Howard to himself, disastrously ending an evening once because Tony shut down that sort of reminiscing with a dark quip and scowl.

For reasons that Steve now has a bit more clarity in understanding.

“You’re right,” Steve mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as he turns back around to look at Tony. “I've been trying to protect the past as much as you've been trying to protect the future. I’m sorry.”

Tony’s face scrunches up into an incredulous expression, as if not sure how to react to such a statement. Shaking his head, he frowns.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” Tony grumbles.

Steve shrugs.

“Say nothing,” he replies. “I don’t want to make excuses, especially if those reasons are meaningless to you. Regardless of any of them, I _am_ sorry.”

Tony quirks a brow, pulling himself to a standing position again.

“What reasons?” he asks.

“Can you not see it from my perspective at all, Tony?” Steve breathes a humorless laugh. “To find that my oldest friend, the brother who had nursed me from death countless times as a scrawny, sickly boy, pulled through time just as far as me but with the horrors of brainwashing. No soft sleep for him, no, just torture and fear and blood and death.”

Tony frowns, opening his mouth to interject but Steve holds up his hand.

“Me suspecting, then knowing, that he was coerced into murdering people we knew, knew well even. Then incident after incident happens, between Sokovia and Rumlow and my friend goes into hiding, even from me. You arrive with Ross in tow, throwing the Accords in our face with no other option. Sign it or be hunted. Then Peggy died...”

Steve’s face screws up in a struggle to keep his emotions in check.

“But there’s no time for grief, no time for reasoning or compromise, just sign. _Sign, sign, sign._ I couldn’t do that with a clear conscience. Then there’s Vienna and the manhunt for Bucky starts. We found him, were detained with him, and he has no fucking _rights_. Despite all his years in the Army, missing in action, decorated Howling Commando... he’s stripped of everything. He’s chained in that box and when I ask _where’s his lawyer, doesn’t he get representation,_ I’m met with derision.”

“That box was no obstacle for him,” Tony mutters.

“It was no obstacle for the _Winter Soldier_. Bucky chose to sit there, let you play out your ruse until Zemo broke him down. Bucky _begged_ him to stop. Can you imagine preferring being caged like that than to become your _worst nightmare?_ ” Steve cries out, throwing up his hands. “You shouldn’t have to try so hard, Tony, just look at Bruce! You know better than anyone the guilt Bruce carries over the deaths Hulk has accidentally caused!”

Tony rears back, looking stricken.

“So I have my oldest friend, being vilified for something _out of his control_ , inalienable rights still unlawfully _stripped away_... and you. No matter what our friendship was or was not, there’s no coming back from a country turning it’s back on its citizens, enhanced or not. And that’s what you were championing.”

Steve deflates, finding the amount of hurt pouring out of the words escaping him exhausting. A few moments pass as Tony is uncharacteristically silent, processing Steve’s words.

“We can be civil without damaging the team, as we proved earlier. After this catastrophe is fixed, I’ll stay out of your way,” Steve says softly as he turns to walk out of the room.

He’s about to punch the pad to open the door when Tony calls out. “Rogers.”

Steve turns, finding Tony throwing off the lid to a crate and frowning into it. A moment passes as Tony seems to consider the item in the box before pulling it out.

It’s the familiar red, white, and blue shield. Steve can feel his eyebrows raise in surprise before narrowing his gaze. Tony glances at him with fingers tapping on the metal, lips pursed in consideration.

Steve decides to say nothing. The words hurled at him the last time he saw that shield were words enough.

Tony finally thrusts it out, looking anywhere except at Steve while looking like he’s chewing on something unpleasant.

“What are you doing, Tony?” Steve finally asks. 

“I... shouldn’t have taken this from you.”

The admittance is torn from Tony and Steve sighs. The shield looks well cared for, the few scratches that Steve remembers marring it before having been buffed away.

“That’s not me, Tony. I’m not a dancing monkey for the government.”

“No, you’re an Avenger,” Tony says somberly. 

The moment hangs as Steve stares at Tony who’s still attempting to seem indifferent. 

“Will you take this already? This thing is ungodly heavy.”

Steve huffs a small disbelieving laugh, taking it from Tony gingerly. The weight settles on his arm in a way that feels right, a way that no other shield he’s worn feels. Running his fingers along the edge, he’s surprised by the stinging of his eyes.

Steve really didn’t expect to see his shield again.

“I can’t allow the best fighters to not be outfitted as they should be,” Tony gruffly says, turning away.

“Okay, Tony,” Steve agrees, but he can see the bluster for what it is. Hopefully, after everything is put to rights they can repair their friendship, but this token is more than enough. Tony has spoken more than he ever anticipated and Steve is grateful for it.

“It’s probably the last time we will see Thanos, yeah?” Tony says, giving him a harrowed glance. “At least if we lose, we’ll lose...”

“Together,” Steve completes with a nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things!
> 
> This is probably my most controversial chapter in regard to the canon. There's a lot of fun arguments to be had over the shenanigans of Civil War and I don't mean to be divisive between them, as a lot of it boils down to Plot dividing them. It kind of feels like I'm yanking on them _hard_ to come and meet in the middle, for Pete's sake.
> 
> I hope I did the scene justice. In all my reading, I realize I've never seen a fic that really has a throwdown between the two of them like this. I may have not been looking in the right places, but it's still kind of an unknown to me. Usually, it's either dealt with off-screen or ignored.
> 
> I accidentally deleted this whole thing for about a week until I noticed. Bless Google Doc's for saving it, because I about had a heart attack looking for it again.
> 
> Next update will be next Friday I think. I have a lot of editing to do, but the last chapter is one small bit away from being done. Much wow. So excite. :)


	25. Chapter 25

The sound of the door opening startles Darcy up from her position of leaning her head on Bruce’s shoulder. Eyes bleary, she looks past Bruce to see Steve standing there with a familiar shield on his arm. His expression is severe and she can feel bittersweet pangs through her mark.

Bruce turns at the sound as well and nods at Steve’s shield. “Where the hell has that been?”

Steve blinks, approaching the pair as he runs a hand along the edge of the shield.

“Hello, beautiful,” Darcy murmurs up at it. The shield is shiny as if freshly polished, the colors bright. Steve reaches down to take Darcy’s hand and pull her up.

“Storage, I suppose,” Steve says. Bruce squints up at him.

“Why?” Bruce replies, looking completely confused at the concept.

Steve’s frown deepens before deciding to shrug and squeezes Darcy’s hand. There’s an agitation to him that she can feel, so she’s not surprised when Steve begins to pull her away abruptly.

“See you, Doc,” she looks back to give Bruce a little wave, the man left behind with his bewilderment.

Steve holds a fragile expression as he pulls her along with him through the ship. They pass Scott sitting in another hallway, working on what looks to be a piece of his suit with a screwdriver, who gives them a slight nod before returning back to his work. Darcy catches a glimpse of a room with Natasha and Clint before being pulled along into a different room, about the size of a walk-in closet. Stacks of brightly colored boxes sit on the shelves, labeled things in neon alien words and little hieroglyphics of explosions. The door closes softly and there’s only a soft ambient light running along the edges of the ceiling.

“What are-”

She breaks off as Steve drops to the ground, leaning his shield against the wall, before turning to her and pulling her close. Steve burrows his face into her stomach, his shoulders shaking.

_Oh, Steve._

Darcy threads her fingers through his hair, uncertain of what is going through his mind. She can feel a surge of bittersweet relief through their mark, but it isn’t telling her what it cost.

_He’s pushed himself as far as possible without thinking about how fucked up everything is. All that pain from long ago brought back into the light, thrown on top of the loss of everyone. Oh, Steve..._

The moment drags, Steve gripping the back of her sweater as he clings to her, mind lost in anguish that Darcy can only guess at. A soft shushing noise begins to escape her without her even realizing it until he releases her to look up at her with sad eyes.

Darcy kisses his forehead, smoothing the fringe of his hair from his face. He closes his eyes and emits a deep shuddering breath. Thoughts of love build in her head as she continues to leave small kisses against his cheek, his jaw, his nose which causes a sniff of humor to escape him.

Steve escaping with her for this moment of comfort causes a sympathetic smile to grow on her face. Releasing his grip on her clothes, Steve reaches up to hold her face in his hands. His fingertips glide along her hairline, pulling her down toward his own face gently, causing a shiver down her spine. 

Darcy opens her mouth, wanting to ask a question, but the thought is elusive as he peers so seriously up at her. Steve brushes his thumb up to her lips as if asking for silence, eyes dark as he studies her face. Her heart kicks up as Darcy can feel the shift of tension in the room, Steve’s loving inspection of her reminding her of other quiet moments.

Darcy fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before leaning forward, touching her lips to his own. He runs his fingers to cup her jaw as he deepens the kiss. A sort of madness passes between them as she nips lightly at his bottom lip and Steve shifts to press Darcy against the wall, meeting her desperation in kind.

A loud _bang_ hits the door and they both jump, breaking apart. The door slides open, causing them both to squint at the sudden light and find Clint standing in the doorway.

“Coming into Wakanda right now,” he says gruffly before walking on. Steve sighs.

“Duty calls,” Darcy mutters. She frowns as she realizes this is the last moment alone they're likely to have.

“Right,” Steve replies softly.

The moment hangs, neither one wanting to part from each other. Darcy’s hand is still stroking at his hair, Steve’s own fingers trailing her clavicle as his form is still pinning her gently against the wall.

“I know you’re going to be there,” he says to the hollow of her throat. “I’m not going tell you that you shouldn’t be or stop you. I’m not going to argue against your choice to fight for those you love. You wouldn’t be my Match if you didn’t want to fight.”

Darcy feels a prickling of tears in her eyes, frowning as she’s not sure where his speech is leading. Steve glances up at her, his face somber.

“But no matter what happens, Darcy Lewis, I trust you.”

She can feel the soft _whump_ as the ship lands. A soothing relief passes through her mark, a reprieve from all the guilt she’s been carrying over what she can and can’t say. She gives him another quick kiss.

“I love you,” Darcy whispers against his lips, feeling the tears fall off her cheeks to his.

“I love you too,” Steve replies, standing up and taking her hand in his own. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Bucky isn’t sure how many days they’ve been stuck in this realm filled with souls. It’s causing a maddening effect, the glare of an unseen sun keeping the same brightness at all times, offering no reprieve. He is lying on the ground, right arm over his eyes, trying to ignore his surroundings in some sort of feigned sleep. 

There’s a berth between him and his companions since Bucky found a spot nearby the shadow creatures. The count of them has grown to a whopping nine, which everyone is avoiding mentioning. The unfortunate truth is there just isn’t enough of their group to contain them if Darcy shows up again. Wanda and Strange’s magic could help shield her from their rabid attention but Bucky is skeptical of it being successful.

It’d only take one to make their defenses moot.

The mood is dark because of it. The Guardians are constantly muttering at each other, Mantis trying to maintain a semblance of positivity against Quill's skepticism. Parker wears a constantly worried expression, the poor kid eyeing the shadow beings like their existence will make his own cease to be, and Jane is set on keeping him at ease, talking him through science discoveries to keep his mind active.

“Hey,” Sam kicks Bucky’s foot, startling the man into sitting up. Bucky scowls.

“What is it?”

Sam is wearing a frown, eyeing him carefully. “You alright, man?”

“Just glorious,” Bucky mutters darkly. Sam drops to the ground next to him.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Sam states as neutrally as possible, which causes Bucky to snort.

“I named a _goat_ after you,” Bucky refutes, shaking his head. “Think we’ll ever get out of here?”

Sam frowns. “There’s no way in hell we’re left in this limbo forever.”

“Rather optimistic of you,” Bucky grumbles.

“Well, I think you have enough doom and gloom for the both of us,” Sam says.

Bucky purses his lips, uncertain how to explain the turmoil creeping up in him. He can feel an itch in his feet to _do something_ , whether it’s fight or flight. But this landscape is a rotation of the same, and there’s no one to fight, despite the shadow creatures appearance. Eyeing the shadow encasing the boy M’Toka, he notes how the shadow that Darcy had somehow wiped away is slowly closing over the boys face once again.

_I want nothing to do with murdering children._

“I just wish we could do something for them,” Bucky finally admits, motioning to the shadow creatures that sit so very still, waiting for hope to reappear once again.

“Like what?” Sam asks.

Bucky stands up, walking over to M’Toka. The shadowed boy sits with his knees pulled to his chest, limbs protruding further than a regular boys’ would, whining softly.

“Barnes...” Sam begins, but Bucky ignores him. He’s not sure what he’s aiming to do, brush the shadows away or just garner a reaction, but he reaches out with a hand to pats the boy’s shoulder.

Pain splits through his mind as Russian words echo in his ears, causing him to recoil.

_< She broke something in his programming. He must be sent.>_

_< But if the Madame finds out...>_

_< Who are they against us?>_

The voices, the words, they’re so familiar, a blend of all the handlers he had in his horrifying years at HYDRA. 

“Barnes!” 

His name forces him to focus on the present, feeling Sam pull him away from M’Toka. Wanda is suddenly next to him, hand on his elbow, gripping tightly.

“You well?” she asks in her heavily accented voice. Familiarity flashes in his vision of another young woman with striking red hair, speaking the same words in a different language.

A shockwave of pain causes him to grimace once again. He can feel a pierce to the red haze in his mind, behind the woman he tries so hard not to think too closely on. That dark and bloodied path that he always avoided is opening, red mist dispersing, and Wanda’s face flashes with another once again.

_Natalia._

He lets out of howl of pain, images flying at him at light speed as he struggles to maintain his wits. There’s a mild sense of arguing around him but he’s too deep into memories to care.

_His handlers had said she was eight years old. Seeing her for the first time, he hadn’t been impressed. All knobbly knees and a carefully blank expression except for a fierce glint in her eyes. He only walked into the room when she launched herself at him, all teeth and nails. It took a few tries - she was a quick one - before he managed to grab her by the neck and pin her up with his metal palm against the wall._

_< What are you trying to prove?> he had grumbled in Russian._

_< I will not let you kill me,> she choked out. He laughed._

_< I was sent to test you, not kill you,> he refuted, releasing her._

_< Why they want me to train a child, I do not know,> he continued harshly, ignoring how she crumpled to the ground._

_< I’m not a child,> the girl coughed, grasping at her throat. <And you are not a man, you are just a soldier.>_

_Soldier. Soldat._

“ _Barnes!_ ”

Bucky finds himself yanked back to the present, mind muddled. Wanda is still in front of him, eyeing him warily with her hands glowing red.

“What?” he asks, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

“Are you alright?” T’Challa grips his shoulder. Bucky realizes that a majority of his friends have come over in concern while Strange and the Guardians eye the situation from afar.

But Bucky isn’t sure how to respond to T’Challa’s question. He can feel more memories begin to surface along the edge of his thoughts. Wanda interjects by gripping his left arm, metal once again, red magic glowing against her skin.

“You cannot face them alone,” she states. “They will overtake you here.”

“What?” Bucky asks again, stupidly. The muted red of her hair is bizarrely distracting.

“Strange said the shadow creatures were vulnerable because they have a ‘malleable sense of self’. You are vulnerable as well, Bucky,” Wanda asserts. Her magic isn’t comforting Bucky in the least, signifying how concerned she is.

_A flash through time, he entered a dance studio and spotted her immediately. She’s one of the many girls lining the room, each pre-adolescent girl impressive in their own way. For some reason, she seemed to shine out to him despite mirroring the blank expression of every other girl._

_< Soldier, attend,> his handler commanded. The Soldier assumed his position in the middle of the room. A woman by the window, standing behind the girls, barked out names and the game was on._

_Each one jumped into the ring to attack him and he dispatched each one quickly, their fighting style easily dismissed as they attempted to overpower him. It’s not until the name Natalia is called that the spry girl he’s familiar with, fairly older than the last time he saw her, sprung into action which made a pinprick of feeling hit his chest._

_So her name was Natalia._

_The Soldier tossed aside the unfamiliar sensation of connection. He had to focus because she knew his fighting tricks better than the others, even if their sessions had been short. She wouldn’t succeed in beating him, but a strange reluctance took root in his gut. He didn’t want to hurt her, unlike her inconsequential peers._

_Thus began a careful dance of opening opportunities for her, but pulling back at the last moment. The Soldier could see how frustration was building in her, so he let her get a cheap shot on him. It had never been so easy to pretend to tire out as she evaded around his purposefully cumbersome moves._

_She thought she had him, a smug pride riding her expression, which brought the opportunity to flip around and lock her in a choke hold. Natalia smacked at his arm, the metal digging into the skin at her neck until the Soldier heard the command to stand down. The slip of a girl fell to her knees, coughing profusely and glaring up at him._

_He was glad she was so hardy. Perhaps she would survive._

Bucky can hear T’Challa’s question from afar. “What is happening to him?”

“I think a mixture of our time here and his touch with one of the creatures may have broken some of Bucky’s more repressed memories,” Wanda explains, concern evident. “Bucky was still learning who he is with guidance from your doctors. He is in grave danger here.”

“M’fine,” Bucky mumbles. Wanda squeezes his arm, the warning only slightly helpful for the next memory to hit him.

_It had been raining. He held a position on a balcony overlooking another hotel, peering down into a window. He was to hold this position until his contact - absurdly referenced as Red Riding Hood - made their way into the hotel. The weight of a heavy lens rested against his knee, and the Soldier was glad for a change of pace from the sniping missions he’d been holding. A photo was simple enough, and it was a precious gift to be cut loose on a mission without a handler. Far be it for the Soldier to question why they had let him off his leash._

_Peering down at the street, the Soldier inhaled sharply. It had been a couple of years, but it was the girl. Natalia._

_Her form was clad in a burgundy velvet cloak, carefully clinging to a white hand muff at her waist. Her hair was curious, the beacon of copper red parted into two long plaits, light ribbons tied to the ends. The Soldier sits straighter, annoyed at the overt display of the innocence of youth. The man leading her into the hotel held no such qualms, and Soldier wasn’t sure why he was so irritated._

_They disappeared inside._

_The mission stated that after his contact made it inside, he was supposed to wait for a clear shot and photograph the situation in the seventh story corner windows. From his vantage point, the Soldier could see almost the entire penthouse living room. He wasn’t sure what photos they were looking for, but the directive echoed around his head to photograph everything as he lifted the equipment to his face._

_**click** Natalia entered the room with the man, a balding sneering type, who motioned for his men to stay outside. _

_**click** As soon as the door closed, the man helped her out of her coat, peeling the burgundy material off her limbs with a giddy delight to her all white ensemble underneath._

_**click** Natalia’s carefully crafted anxious expression as the man surveyed her intricately constructed dress, lace trim layered over white silk and chiffon with puff sleeves._

_**click** The man’s back was to the window when he reached for her greedily and traced a finger along her chin. There was a straight angle onto Natalia’s face as the man leaned in to kiss her collared neck. A single eyebrow had raised, fury growing in Natalia’s eyes._

_The Soldier lowered the camera with a frown. What was going on here? Natalia was from the Red Room. They did not leave survivors. Why would HYDRA need photos?_

_Lifting the camera back up, he focused on the room once again. Both of them were gone._

_An itch pricked his toes as he dropped the camera, the smashing sound not registering with him. He was on his feet and swinging his legs over the banister to hop down to the next floor without thinking. Scaling across to the fire escape where he could hop from his building to the next, he found himself in the hotel before he realized he was breaking mission protocol._

_Something was telling him he needed to check on Natalia._

“Wanda, how long is he going to be like this?” Sam asks, voice warbling as if heard from underwater.

“There’s no way to know, he has decades of memories he could work through... or it could be focused onto one point in time. I have no way to know,” is her muddled response.

_The Soldier found himself in the penthouse, glancing around uneasily. Not much unsettled him, but there is nothing out of place. Each item is meticulous, Natalia’s coat draped over the arm of a chair, her shoes neatly coupled together by the door._

_There was only one way to go forward, towards the master bedroom. The Soldier frowned as he felt something. An emotion of trepidation._

_The Soldier pushed open the door._

_Natalia stood there, twin daggers in her hands, blood dripping down her form. Red stained the walls, the floor, the bed. Blood seeped into the white of her dress, dripping from the copper strands of her hair._

_The air rank of blood._

_A strange relief hit him as she proved to be as capable as he assumed. Why did his compulsion bring him here?_

_She turned to the door opening, eyes fierce but satisfied with a warriors stripe of blood across her cheek._

Bucky can feel himself flailing, Sam and T’Challa trying to hold him down. Wanda has a hand to his forehead.

“Can we do anything, Wanda?” Sam demands in the background.

“No, we can only hope he will fight through it-” she cuts off.

_< Natalia,> the Soldier stated._

_< Soldier,> she returned, the dead man behind her inconsequential. <Are you my contact?>_

_< Yes.>_

_< Mission successful,> she reported._

_They stared at each other for a long moment. He wasn’t sure what she meant as his mission parameters had been very different. That strange itch climbed up his legs again, up into his spine and along the workings of his left arm. He frowned at the sensation, uncertain of what it meant. The force was so strong that he fell to his knees and glanced up at her with a startled expression._

_Her young eyes widened, having never witnessed him vulnerable before. He gritted his teeth, knowing this meant certain punishment as every other time he’d shown weakness, but that moment of Natalia seemed important._

_She dropped the daggers, reaching out with an uncertain left hand to his face._

_< Are you well?> she asked._

_He put up his metal hand to deflect her touch. The moment the metal touched her skin he felt a sinking sensation pull from his gut. The Soldier reeled back, terrified of the buried man inside unearthing. Natalia startled back, a visible rejection on her face as he struggled to name what was happening inside._

_**Match bonding.** _

_She was not his Match, a ghost had no Match. Matches were for men, and she said herself he was just a Soldier. Pain coursed through the Soldier as the man inside reared up. The man was sorrowed, his Match existed, he had not been forgotten by fate. But revulsion pulsed through him towards her. Natalia was too young, he was too old, this was **wrong** to Match a _ girl _with a ghost. A murderer._

_< Soldier, execute.>_

_The words come out of the very walls and he could taste the malevolent demand. Natalia’s eyes widened, understanding dawning on her expression. She darted for her daggers once again as the Soldier struggled to stand. The order echoed through his head as the man inside clawed at his chest, wrangling for control._

_< Execute!>_

_The next thing the Soldier became aware of, his mind twisted down dark paths as his programming struggled to assert it over the man buried deep, was his handlers return. The only thing left was the bloodied male corpse hanging off the bed, a testament to the girl’s efficiency. She was gone._

_< I told you. He’s been calling her name in Cryo since that last visit to the Red Room.>_

_< I’ve never seen him resist a kill order before.>_

_< They have their work cut out for them. It should be easier with her dead.>_

_**She’s dead? Did we kill her?** _

_The man inside yowled in torment but the Soldier felt relief. He could put her behind him. They would bring the comfort of cold to hide her behind all the blood._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a bit of a rush today, so hopefully there are no glaring errors.
> 
> Seibel can attest to the way I agonized over how to present these scenes, because I'm not a huge fan of full italics chapters, and I wasn't sure if it was worth me trying to badly Google translate Russian and have to explain it later here or something. So the middle ground is what Seibel showed me from the comics, with the brackets for when Russian (or any other language, really) is spoken. 
> 
> Happy Friday!


	26. Chapter 26

Natasha is acting odd.

Clint squints at her as the ship gives a soft _whump_ as it lands gently, watching her movements carefully. She’s as efficient as usual, instantly opening the door and jumping off of the ship, greeting old friends. He’s not entirely sure what about her is acting off beyond just intuition. Clint knows Natasha is very good at hiding things when she’s determined to, so the fact that she’s telegraphing so much tension means something is very wrong.

He leans against the opening of the ship, waiting for her.

“...they will need to see the Princess immediately,” Natasha finishes. The Wakandan she’s speaking to tilts her head.

“You will not be joining them?”

“I will head there later, General, as I need to go to the _Dora Milaje_ facility first. I did prepare these, however,” she hands the pad she’d spent the entirety of the trip working on to the Wakandan woman. “It outlines all of the information we’ve gathered so far on the Infinity Stones so you will be better prepared in your strategizing.”

The woman nods, taking the pad and glancing over it swiftly. “I see. Then I will see you shortly.”

Clint falls in step behind Natasha as she begins to leave, unsure of the layout of the building they’re in or what he should be doing first. She slows a bit to allow him to walk with her as if expecting his company and he glances around.

“Interesting place,” he says mildly at the rather impressive architecture. “I have to say I’m impressed at how they kept off the radar.”

Natasha sends him a look and then grimaces in obvious pain.

“What’s going on, Nat?” Clint asks. She shakes her head as they enter a building. The layout is wide, training mats and equipment everywhere, but she heads to a small room.

“I needed to get this before he arrives,” Natasha mutters, aiming directly to a rather wide locker. With a press of her finger, it slides open, revealing a jumpsuit for a female form. It’s rather plain, a simple dark grey not dissimilar from Natasha’s Black Widow suit, with utilitarian pockets and a line of purple running along the seams.

“Who is this for?” Clint asks as she begins to bundle it up.

“Darcy. I once brought her here for interrogation and she ended up attacked,” Natasha begins with a sigh. “Delivering that message almost killed her. She’s not enhanced and can’t survive that sort of attack again, so I worked with Shuri to build this. I got a message of it being completed, so better her wear it than not.”

Clint considers the information with a frown. “You think she’s going to be out on the field?”

“With how hopeless everything seems? Undoubtedly,” she packs up the suit into a bag before stumbling over with a hiss. “Son of a _bitch_.”

Clint’s eyebrows shoot up, taking the bag from Natasha and grabbing her arm to help her up.

“C’mon, Natasha,” he mutters. “Where’s your room?”

Natasha sends him a resigned look before handing him a device that shows a small map of the facility for him to follow.

The trip through the various buildings as they head to the quarters she used while in Wakanda is tense. Clint knows something is up and her reluctance can only point to one thing.

“Is it your mark?” he mutters as they walk down the endless halls.

“Yes,” she grunts and he notices that she’s squeezing her hand in pain, a sweat forming on her brow.

“How long has it been hurting?” Clint asks.

“Since we returned from Zen-Whoberi.”

“Damn it, Natasha, why didn’t you say something?” he grumbles as she motions him to a door.

“Can’t do anything about it. If it truly is Barnes, what am I going to do, pop into nothingness and tell him to knock it off?” Natasha hisses under her breath.

“Never heard you be such a quitter,” Clint snipes in return as she holds up her right hand to the pad and they’re admitted to her room. She throws herself at the couch that is there and snorts.

“The only thing I can think of is to ask Darcy,” she says. “I had to build that information for Okoye otherwise I would have searched her out before. Steve mentioned she was manipulating marks. Here, this is where she should be.”

She darts her hand out to change the directions to a laboratory on the device. Her entire facade drops, the hissing pain escaping through her clenched teeth.

“I’ll be back, then,” Clint agrees.

Natasha doesn’t respond as he leaves the room.

* * *

Darcy finds herself following Steve off the ship, trying to stay out of the way as everyone shuffles equipment. She catches a glimpse of a group of her shipmates, Natasha speaking with Okoye before departing as Thor and Valkyrie work with who Darcy recognizes as Ayo. As they unload, Tony and Bruce are watching the boxes with the three Infinity Stones like a hawk. Steve eventually begins to lead the small group of the stones with Tony, Bruce, and Darcy towards the laboratory, the route becoming familiar as they go.

Entering the room, Darcy is hit with the nostalgia of her time here before the world went mad. It’s nestled deep within the vibranium caves with all the same gleaming desks and equipment, but there is less staff than usual. Shuri takes one look at the group before smiling and coming closer to greet them all.

“It is good to see you, Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Darcy,” she says kindly before turning to Tony. “I am afraid we were unable to save your friend, Mr. Stark.”

Darcy glances at Tony who is wearing a frown, as if uncertain who is exactly addressing him, but Shuri brusquely moves to the side of the room where a curtain is set up. Pulling it back, the greyed form of Vision is sitting stiffly upright on a examinations table.

“Vision?” Tony asks, looking like he’s unsure of how to respond.

Vision’s eyes pop open. There is nothing there, a similar blankness to his visage in death that prompts Darcy to repress a shiver.

“Affirmative,” the android replies in a monotone voice.

Tony frowns, glancing at Bruce in concern before turning back to Shuri. “Talk to me.”

Shuri looks apologetic.

“We took all the readings of his connection with the Mind Stone as quickly as we could. I was in the middle of disentangling his person from the Stone when we were attacked and he ran. This Vision is a product of his old body and as many of the synapses we could rebuild with the readings we had of them. He’s as efficient as ever, despite the lack of flight-”

“He’s not _the_ Vision,” Darcy states. “He’s somehow gotten more creepy, Tony.”

Tony pinches his nose. “I don’t know why you have such an issue with him, he has always bee-”

“He gave me his nightmare, Tony. I don’t think you can hold it against me,” Darcy grumbles as she glances around uncomfortably. Tony sighs.

“We did our best,” Shuri continues sadly. “But he is still not the Vision I met. We were able to rebuild a lot of the concurrent synapses, but even with the scan... it was only at seventeen percent. Everything beyond that is potentially lost.”

Tony steps up to look over the android and Shuri hands him a pad which he begins to flip through. Darcy can practically see him dissect the information, expecting a nitpick somewhere.

“You rebuilt his neural network?” Tony asks in a critical tone. “Who helped you? Bruce obviously wasn’t here.”

“Me,” says a voice from the doorway belonging to a woman with a high ponytail and lab coat standing there.

“Dr. Cho!” Bruce gapes at her. “This is where you disappeared to?”

“Correct,” Dr. Cho says shortly as she walks closer to their group. 

“How did you end up here? Pepper could only confirm you weren’t dusted,” Steve asks.

“I was invited,” she replies gravely. “Princess Shuri wanted a firsthand look of the process with the Cradle and the resources to build a newer version of it. As she had Vision’s body, it made sense. I wasn’t about to refuse, as I’ve not been in contact with Maria Hill since before the Decimation and others were beginning to show pointed interest in my work.”

“What others?” Tony asks. “The whole point of you being at the upstate facility was to avoid any undue attention.”

“Some associate of Ross. Older gentleman, glasses and far too bland a personality to be anything but dangerous,” Dr. Cho replies.

Darcy sends Steve a pointed look as Shuri nods to Dr. Cho.

“We are very lucky she decided to come to join us, as her research has been invaluable. With her knowledge of the Cradle, we were able to repair him back to functionality. It took very little work to power him, but we’ve spent sleepless nights trying to find what made him Vision,” Shuri says sadly. “I am very excited for the prospect of returning the Mind Stone to him.”

“Wait, hold on. How do we know he’ll be the same Vision if we give him the Mind Stone back?” Darcy asks. “What if it brought back someone else? Like Ultron? Or... I don’t know... Vanellope Von Schweetz?”

“We _don’t_ know. We’ve been holding a bit of a debate on the validity of giving him the Mind Stone back. Some people here think it’s worth the risk, but I’m adamantly against it without some controls in place,” Dr. Cho states somberly. “I can’t advocate for any solution that could bring Ultron back.”

Steve looks thoughtful and nods. “That’s reasonable, considering how he involved you last time. We need time to determine the possible ramifications, which we don’t have. Thanos could arrive at any moment.”

Darcy sighs, walking over to an empty chair to sit down. She’s not surprised at the debate that’s sprouting up in front of her. Laying her head down on her arms against the table, she watches Tony and Shuri find an odd kinship in debating with Bruce and Dr. Cho. Yawning, she finds her vision blur as she looks at the android. The focus on everyone’s souls cause them to brighten for her momentarily as her sight shifts for a moment and she sits up suddenly, inspecting Vision more intensely.

_He doesn’t have a soul._

“We don’t have time for this. Thanos could arrive at any moment. He has the Power, Space, and Reality Stones,” Steve says, motioning to the crate with the secured boxes holding the Time, Mind, and Soul Stones. “We need to secure these ones past choke points where we can try to strip Thanos of the others before he combines their power and blasts us all to hell.”

Shuri sends a glance to Vision. “If you gave him back the Mind Stone-”

“No,” Steve refutes immediately. “Princess Shuri, I would love to have Vision back. He is invaluable in a fight. But I’m not going to risk our last fight, our likely _only_ fight, for only a possibility that our friend will return. Even if he did, what are we going to tell him? ‘Congratulations, you died, now here’s the _same situation_ where you could die a horrible death yet again’?”

“Vision did have his own abilities, you know,” Tony points out. “He’s about the only one we know for certain who is able to withstand the power of actually wielding an Infinity Stone without being caught in it.”

“We’re talking in circles, Tony. They already stated they don’t know that it’d be him that came back,” Bruce argues. “Ultron would not be a variable I’d like in this upcoming battle, okay?”

Dr. Cho gives a derisive sniff. “I doubt Ultron would help you now even if he did appear. His plans for subjugating the entire planet and meet whatever force was out there are moot. It’s far too late for his idea to work now.”

Darcy frowns at Dr. Cho, wondering how on earth the woman would know that when Clint walks into the room. He sends a startled look at the de-hued Vision before making his way over to the group. A moment passes before another look of surprise graces his features as his eyes land on Dr. Cho.

“Dr. Cho! I’m glad to see you survived the apocalypse,” he says before turning to Darcy. “Hey, uh, could I borrow you a second?”

Darcy tilts her head and nods.

“I’ll be right back,” she calls out to the others. They continue debating amongst each other, but Steve sends her a concerned glance as she follows Clint out of the room. “What is it?”

“Natasha,” Clint’s expression is oddly pinched.

“Uh, okay?” Darcy mutters as she struggles to keep up with his pace. She’s not sure how to read his tense features as he’s been nothing but carefree since she’s met him, even with the impending doom of Thanos on the horizon.

“How, uh, did Dr. Cho know about Ultron’s plans?” Darcy asks as they work their way through the building towards the residential wing. Clint shoots her a look she can’t decipher.

“Ultron abducted her,” he replies. “Others went freely to help him, but some of us have to be... coerced.”

Darcy narrows her gaze at him. “What do you mean, ‘coerced’?”

Clint pauses a moment, glaring at the ceiling.

“That portal over New York wasn’t opened by one lone astrophysicist,” he says in a quiet tone. “He may have been the start, but others were procured to finish the project. And Ultron wasn’t born in a vacuum, as he went rogue the moment he had consciousness. Dr. Cho was tasked with building him a body, which fortunately for us, Vision managed to circumvent. But that doesn’t mean those of us who had a hand in it don’t feel responsible still.”

Darcy feels a wave of sympathy for the female doctor hit her as she remembers how disjointed Dr. Selvig was after the Battle of New York. Sure, there were many people involved in that attack, but he felt an acute responsibility. Darcy isn’t sure the specifics around Ultron’s appearance, but it helps her connect the dots of Dr. Cho’s apprehension. The doctor obviously had a vast knowledge of the technology that built Vision and knows exactly the struggles of how the android came to be.

“I’m sorry,” she says, not entirely sure what she’s apologizing for. Clint hollow expression prompts it almost as a reflex. “No wonder she’s wary.”

“Just so,” Clint says as he continues walking. The rest of the journey to Natasha’s room is quiet.

“Here we are,” Clint mutters, prodding at the door's keypad. It opens without hesitation. Entering it, Darcy can feel something is wrong. She’s only been in Natasha’s room a handful of times but the very air is permeated with a sinister feeling.

“Natasha?” Darcy asks, seeing Natasha kneeling in front of her couch, left arm cradled against her with a grimace.

“What..?” Darcy begins to ask but Natasha interrupts her while shaking her head.

“ _It hurts._ ”

“Look, we sort of saw the shit you did with Tony and Pepper when he got caught in that time bubble thing...” Clint starts to say. “What the hell is going on with her mark?”

_Natasha is scarcely bonded, humorously if I may say so, mark barely connecting in a way she is just now realizing._

Mistress Death’s words hit Darcy with sudden clarity. It startles her into reading the room of the soul elements without meaning to. Natasha’s hand is glowing, a deep angry red that emits from a tangle of a String around her pinky.

Darcy kneels next to Natasha, squinting as she examines the woman’s mark. Catching Natasha’s hand and bringing it closer to her face, she can see how the String is constricted. Darcy’s thoughts ping in every direction.

_You can tangle a mark?_

Natasha pulls out a penknife out of her pocket, flipping it open so suddenly that Darcy recoils. She’s about to protest, thinking Natasha is going to do something foolish like try to cut off her finger.

“No, don’t-” Darcy gasps when Natasha brings the knife down to stab herself in the thigh. “What the _fuck_ , Natasha.”

Natasha blinks furiously, expression clearing.

“It’s only a baby blade. She’s redirecting the pain to a more manageable spot,” Clint explains, looking displeased. “She missed anywhere important, don’t worry about it.”

“ _Spies_ ,” Darcy bites out grumpily, turning back to Natasha’s mark. “Who the hell is your Match? You said it was one sided.”

“Does it matter? Make it stop,” Natasha hisses out, finally responding. “You can make it stop, right?”

“It’s not,” Clint interjects. “One sided, that is.”

Darcy picks at the strand, trying to unfurl it and Natasha tenses. A slew of Russian words escapes the redheaded woman.

“I don’t know if I can make it stop. The Match is dusted?” Darcy murmurs the question, concerned at how Natasha seems to be lost in her own thoughts.

“If it’s who we assume it is, yeah,” Clint agrees. 

Darcy hums, setting into work. She can see how the mark has twisted around itself when it completed and Darcy can only guess as to how or why it happened. Pulling it taut causes Natasha to wince.

“Is it any better?” Darcy asks as she works. Natasha shakes her head.

“ _He’s pulling on me_ ,” she whispers out. “I can feel him in my head, teasing me to dance with him, but I put those memories _away_.”

“You might have to meet him halfway if he’s pulling like that, Natasha,” Darcy mutters. “I can see your mark, but it ends like every other person I’ve met with a dusted Match. Your String is a tangled mess and some of the knots are beyond me. I can only assume that means you have to work through it with him.”

“He’s fragile.”

Darcy snorts. “Anyone matched with you couldn’t be fragile.”

“He’ll reject me.”

“ _‘Why are you acting the coward?’_ ” Darcy bites out, throwing the same words Natasha once said to Darcy back at her. Natasha glares at her.

“There is no _happy match_ to be had, Darcy. This is _Barnes_ we’re talking about, who has enough shit to deal with in this life than a-” Natasha cuts herself off when she notices Darcy’s surprised face. “Shit.”

“ _Bucky?_ ” Darcy asks in a shrill tone. Clint looks mildly amused.

Natasha sighs. “Yes.”

“Well, no the fuck wonder your String is like this. You _both_ have been through some shit, and he lost his... oh my god,” Darcy reaches for Natasha’s String suddenly, past the knots to the fledgling strand shooting out. Pinching it slightly, she runs her fingers down it, strengthening the connection despite the knots wrapped around Natasha’s finger.

Darcy isn’t surprised when Natasha passes completely out. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the wave of fatigue to hit her like a truck.

* * *

_The Soldier was waiting on the side of the road, hip leaning against the trunk of his car. He glanced at his watch, noting the time and looking up at the sun bearing down on the deserted road. It was a sort of route that held no purpose in a newer world, being bypassed by highways. The Soldier wasn’t surprised that no vehicle had driven by in the three hours he’d been waiting._

_A sound of shuffling caught his attention and he turned toward the cliff. A few moments passed until a hand gripped desperately at the rocks. The woman pulled herself up into his sight, another man tethered to her, looking terrible with her clothing ripped and dirt smudged all over her body. Finally, the two of them seem to pull themselves up and fall to the ground, exhausted._

_The Soldier was disappointed that she didn’t notice him. He had been hunting her, after all._

_Well, the target. She’d just been a bonus. She’d made it interesting._

_< You done?> he asked in Russian, palming his pistol. Despite the exhaustion, she jumped up and tried to help the man wearing a lab coat up quickly._

_< What do you want?> she demanded, keeping the man behind her._

_< To complete my mission,> he stated._

_She gave him a scathing look, keeping the man behind her. The Soldier only paused a moment before bringing up his pistol and firing._

_A stab of pain hit his programming, a perversion of the calm waters he’d been floating in for so long. He ignored it, watching impassively as the woman and scientist fell to the ground. She wore an expression of shock as if surprised at her own stupidity._

_Stepping closer to the man bleeding out onto his white lab coat, the Soldier aimed and unloaded three more shots into the man’s skull. The woman glared at him from her position on the ground._

_< Are you going to kill me as well?> she asked._

_< You’re not my mission,> he stated as he kicked the scientist's body back down the cliff. As he turned to walk away, his handlers were yelling in his ear and he wasn’t sure why they were so upset. The mission was completed, the woman was nothing and likely dead if she continued to bleed out._

_The scream of frustration from the woman as he entered his car rings through his mind. He couldn’t quiet it, the sound reverberating like a deep bass down into his gut. He slammed his foot down on the pedal, the car peeling out onto the mountain road._

_Ripping out the earpiece full of angry voices, he frowns. There is an anger in his gut, a wave of anger he didn’t remember from before. Speeding along, the Soldier glances over and slams on the brakes._

_The woman, similar but with a more mature face and blond hair, sits in the seat next to him. He knows that that didn’t happen before._

_“Hello, Soldier,” she murmurs._

“What’s happening now? Is it over?” 

“They arrived. Darcy must have sent them somehow,” is the quiet reply. 

“Who?”

“His Match. I told him he couldn’t do it alone.”

_< I just killed you,> he snarls._

_< You tried,> she agrees. <But here we are.>_

_< Where is here?> he asks, confused as the car and mountain view disappear in a puff of smoke into a quiet apartment. They are suddenly sitting on a comfortable couch in the middle of a nicely furnished room._

_“This appears to be one of my safe houses,” she says in English. “Toulon, I think?”_

_Bucky begins to realize that the Soldier isn’t riding his thoughts anymore. Natalia’s... no, Natasha’s presence in comforting, as opposed to the dark exhilaration of the Soldier chasing her in memory before. He can see that she is watching his arm as the metal slowly recedes to regular skin. It continues down until his hand, where the blue of his completed String bands around his pinky._

_“So you did have a mark,” she murmurs to herself, pulling his hand up to her face so she can compare it to her own mark._

_Bucky realizes the Soldier is completely gone, leaving him with a Natasha who looks far more uneasy than he’s ever remembered her. That includes the handful of memories he just took a stroll through._

_Natasha seems to consider the mark, the String on her hand a mess of knots that match his own as it eventually connects to his in a jumble._

_“When did this happen?” she asks and Bucky cringes. “I remember meeting you a handful of times, but my memories of my life before are muddled...”_

_“You were sent on a mission to dispatch someone. I was sent, without handlers, to observe your mission. We were both given different objectives, but you disappeared and... something prompted Soldier to leave his post. I - and Soldier - came in and you were there, a bloodied child, ready to comply,” he explains quietly._

_Natasha tilts her head, considering the information._

_“I was never a child,” she argues and he shakes his head._

_“You_ were _and that horrified me. I don’t know why fate Matched us then, and not any of the other times. The Soldier was confused, so I was able to push through the programming to see who fate had given me after waiting decades and met a **child**.”_

_“If we hadn't bonded then, I would not have had an opportunity to escape the Red Room,” Natasha murmurs._

_“We stayed in that moment, the Soldier stalled over the confusion of our mission directives conflicting, but it was made clear the true purpose of my involvement the next moment. A kill order was broadcast through the room and I resisted it, how I resisted it, but the Soldier took over. After a sort of equilibrium had been reached with the Soldier after dark moments I can't even remember, they stated you’d been killed.”_

_“My first memory was running through the wet streets, running from a ghost, straight into Clint's trap. You thought you had killed me?” she asks._

_Bucky nods. He’s a bit mesmerized that he can see a knot around his pinky loosen and fade away._

_“Lucky for you, I’m harder to kill than that,” Natasha says wryly. “So are you, if you’re somewhere Darcy won’t mention.”_

_“Is that how you’re here?” he asks. “Is she doing okay? We have no idea if she managed to get cleanly away or not.”_

_“Was she attacked?” Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Can’t imagine who would-”_

_“There are souls here who have lost themselves. They came out of nowhere when she appeared, and now are biding their time in silence. I was inspecting one when I tripped down memory lane...” Bucky breaks off, not wanting to rehash the information._

_“Ah. So that’s why my mark was hurting so bad,” she murmurs again. Natasha narrows her gaze at him. “You buried our past deep, didn’t you?”_

_Bucky shifts, hating that he is forced to admit it._

_“I’ve been a husk of a man for so long, I didn’t want to break anything. The balance was hard enough,” he whispers. Natasha nods._

_“I’ve my own dark past to contend with. Nothing has to change, Barnes. I’ve been without a Match so long, it’s not like I will wither away without you,” she responds softly. “I’ve learned that people can Match and pull away with no ill effects. I won’t hold it against you.”_

_Bucky frowns, hearing the words she’s speaking without quite understanding. The romantic in him is a little peeved at her easy dismissal. While they Matched so long ago under the stress of conditioning, the rejection somehow still stings._

_“You don’t think we could make it work?” he asks._

_Natasha remains quiet for some time, putting his hand down and frowning at her lap._

_“I don’t know,” she finally responds. “We have other things to worry about, anyway. Like bringing you back.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a slew of information that I'm struggling with here, so sorry if it feels a bit rushed. I keep checking the countdown for Captain Marvel and get really nervous about it. The upside is I only have one chapter to gut somewhat to fix it and then hopefully it'll be smooth sailing from there. :)
> 
> I tried to work with as much of the MCU history of Natasha's and Bucky's interactions, but we get like... a sentence from Natasha about it in Winter Soldier, so yay some interpretation, haha.


	27. Chapter 27

Clint is pacing the room, sending darting glances between the occupied brunette and the unconscious blond who lies on the couch. Darcy’s hands are glowing slightly as she manipulates the air in front of Natasha’s pinky, pulling at invisible strands. There’s a manic edge to Darcy’s movements as if she’s operating blind, her body beginning to droop in exhaustion as she works.

“What are you doing?” he demands. “I’ve never seen Nat laid out like that before, how did you do that?”

Darcy frowns. “I established a link with her Match. You brought up Tony earlier, well, this is what I was doing.”

“And what good does it do? She’s not going to collapse like you did, is she?”

Darcy shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I am... a bridge? I didn’t have that buffer when I went over there, not like this. But I’m guessing something is wrong on the other side.”

“The other side? Like the afterlife?” Clint asks. 

“More a vast nothing, a purgatory, I guess. We’ve been operating under the assumption that the dusted are alive, and they are. They’re just... stuck. Something must have happened to Bucky...” she ends in a murmur, looking thoughtful. “I could probably go check.”

“You’re instilling such confidence in me right now. ‘Probably’?” Clint snarks out sarcastically. “Let’s just stick to Natasha and see how she does, okay? I really don’t want to explain to anyone if something went wrong.”

Darcy shrugs slightly, eyes tired. “I’m pretty sure of my ability to do it, I’m just skeptical of what would happen if I did. The only time I’ve been there I had to make a pretty hasty exit. And what would be the point? There are no answers there. We know they're gone. They’re just waiting until we can unfuck up the universe by bringing them back.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone this? Jesus Christ, Lewis...” Clint begins, flabbergasted. Darcy glares at him.

“Look, Barton, I’ve had a _really shitty week_. I’m sure you can sympathize. On top of all the shitty Snapaggedon things, I’ve been tripping through realms, meeting murderous wizards and been attacked my fair share. So when someone - damn it, _the_ someone - tells me to keep my trap shut, I’m going to _fucking listen_.”

With that speech finished, Darcy turns back to her work. Clint continues to pace, making frustrated faces. The minutes pass in silence but he notes that Darcy begins to lean over the side of the couch as if her arms are tired from being held up in the air for so long. A yawn escapes her suddenly and he stops.

“You feeling okay there, Darcy?” he asks. She drops her hands down, closing her eyes for a moment before trying to shake herself awake.

“It’s so much _farther_ than the bridge between Tony and Pepper,” she murmurs, leaning her head down on the couch. “Feel a bit sleepy.”

“Damn it. How much longer till Natasha’s done?” Clint demands.

Darcy gives another yawn, shaking her head. “Takes s’long as it takes.” She closes her eyes.

“Oh, no, Lewis, you are _not_ passing out. You called it a bridge, right? You gotta keep that bridge open, I don’t know what would happen if Natasha was stuck on the-”

“Leave her alone, Clint,” Natasha murmurs, eyes still closed. “M’here.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “About time... Darcy?”

Natasha seems to shake herself awake, eyes popping open right as Darcy slumps over the couch and immediately sits up to check the woman’s pulse. “Relax, Clint, she’s just asleep.” 

Clint sighs with a nod as Natasha brings her hand up to inspect her pinky for a quick moment before standing up to begin pulling Darcy’s limp form up onto the couch.

“What happened?” Clint demands, moving to help her. Darcy is eventually laid out on her back, face peaceful.

“Barnes is reluctantly reliving a bit of our past. I waltzed in right as he was shooting me in 2009.”

“Oh, so nice fluffy memories. Couldn’t have picked a better time. He’s probably peachy keen right now,” Clint grumbles, motioning to Darcy. “That little jaunt fix your hand?”

Natasha hesitates before nodding. “After working out that he _didn’t_ kill me after our bonding, he improved drastically. Unfortunately, that was about all we had time for. Either Darcy hit her limit or she could tell it was improved since I’m back so fast.”

“And what do we do with her?”

Natasha stands and grabs the bag they brought with them and opens it to dump the suit on Darcy. Darcy stirs a bit, frowning in her slumber.

“She really needs like a weeks worth of sleep, doesn’t she?” Clint mutters. 

“Nothing comes for free,” Natasha sighs.

Suddenly, a blare of a horn echoes through the room. Natasha walks over to the window with Clint following her, and they can see a small outfit of Wakandans shuffling a force together out on the grounds. After a moment, the horns fade.

“That’s the alarm they sounded before,” Natasha says, expression stern. “Thanos is here.”

“Well, let’s go get the asshole then,” Clint is already walking to the door. Natasha nods, leaning down to brush a curl from Darcy’s face.

“Be safe, Darcy,” she murmurs before turning to follow Clint.

As they leave her quarters, Clint shoots Natasha a look. While he’s seen moments of tenderness from Natasha before, he’s still surprised. She sends her own impassive look to him in response as she leads him towards the labs.

They come to a junction where people are rushing through. Clint can see the blue-skinned Nebula fighting her way against the crowd, practically hissing at those who get too near her.

“Hey, where are you going?” Clint calls out. Nebula aims for the pair, face fixed with that intense scowl.

“There are bursts of energy out in the plains. I’m going to go find Thanos and kill him,” Nebula declares.

“Well, that’s lovely, but-” Clint begins when the _crack_ of a portal sounds as it bursts into life in the middle of the hallway. Screams are heard as the people disperse instantly.

_Fuck._

The giant doglike creatures that begin to spill out of the portal quickly, growling and snarling in a terrifying manner. Clint pulls his bow out off its harness on his back, nocking arrows to loose into a creature without hesitating. Both of his companions burst into action, Natasha pulling out her batons as she follows Nebula into closer combat with the creatures.

It takes a few minutes of fighting before Clint realizes that he’s being separated from Natasha and Nebula. A pair of enemies are focusing on him and pushing him away down the hallway, away from his allies, giant jaws snapping at him in an almost herding manner.

_The hell is going on here?_

Shooting at them with his arrows, Clint manages to pelt one in a leg joint, causing it to hobble. The other arrows bounce off the thick skin of the creatures with a mild scratch and he scrambles up a staircase, trying to avoid the populace that seems to be scurrying behind the creatures.

All of a sudden, the gaping maw of one of the creatures seems to bust open and Scott appears from nothing next to it.

“Eugh, you guys have nasty breath!” Scott comments jovially, tossing a small device into the throat of the Outrider, which makes a slight chirp. Scott disappears in another moment as a grenade appears in the mouth of the Outrider for only an instant before activating, blasting its head clear off. The explosion knocks the other enemy on its side, showcasing a softer underbelly that Clint unloads a couple arrows into before sliding back down the banister to impale it with a short knife he pulls from his boot.

Scott appears once again as Clint twists the knife, the Outrider howling as it dies.

“Hey man, that was a smooth move!” he says to Clint’s bloodied form.

“Yeah, well, seize the opportunity or something,” Clint pants out, shaking his head. “Where did you even come from?”

“I get around,” Scott replies vaguely. “But I guess by the general panic everyone's showing and these assholes appearance, Thanos is here, huh?”

“Seems a safe bet. I was heading towards the labs but Nat and Nebula got separated from me,” Clint says as he wipes the blood off his blade. “They didn’t even seem all that intent on trying to kill me, just acted like the most murderous sheepdogs you could imagine.”

“What would the point of that be?” Scott asks.

“Not too sure, as I have yet to meet the purple fuck,” Clint grumbles.

_How am I even on his radar?_

“In any case, you have any more of those tricks up your sleeve?” Clint continues.

“Sure. Grenades aren’t usually my thing, but like hell if I’m going to be caught out against enemies like _that_ without something with a bit more kick,” Scott shrugs unapologetically. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

* * *

_We have other things to worry about, anyway. Like getting you back._

Awareness seeps in slowly for Bucky as he struggles with Natasha’s words echoing through his head. She had been wearing a resigned smile as she disappeared almost instantly, but the room took longer to dissipate. Bucky feels himself sitting cross-legged on the ground, bone weary with the emotional punches of his memories. He slightly lifts his lids to peer through his lashes to see Wanda sitting next to him with a glowing red hand hovering near his temple. T’Challa and Sam are also there, murmuring to each other.

“He will pull through, Sam, he is stronger than he thinks,” T’Challa says. Sam looks unconvinced.

“I hope you’re right. As much of a pain in the ass the guy is, I don’t like this,” Sam grumbles.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Wilson,” Bucky says flatly, eyes popping open the rest of the way. His companions look a mixture of surprised and relieved before Sam shifts to annoyance.

“Man, what were you thinking, touching one of those things?”

Bucky shrugs.

“I don’t like seeing children suffer. I was trying to see if I could wipe away the, uh, infection?” he states. Wanda rolls her eyes while T’Challa gives him a critical look. 

“And nearly succumbed to the shadows yourself, Barnes. That was foolish,” the king states.

Bucky nods solemnly.

“If you are not to do any other stupid thing, I’m going to go explain to Strange what happened. Which he may or may not know already, but either way... T’Challa?” Wanda asserts, standing up and T’Challa nods, following her over to the other group.

“So, Wanda said Darcy sent your Match to you?” Sam asks. “Darcy is full of surprises, luckily for you. We couldn’t do anything.”

The image of Natasha, sitting so demurely next to him in the recesses of his mind, beautiful and deadly and wonderfully terrifying causes a ghost of a smile to reach Bucky’s lips.

“I know you didn’t think you had one, but you know your Match, don’t you?” Sam continues, eyeing him carefully.

“Yes.”

At that moment, a familiar cloaked female form appears next to them, kicking Bucky slightly with her toe. He startles before looking up and recognizing the green-skinned woman from before. “Hey. Pretty sure souls can’t help those succumbed to those kinds of shadows.”

“Oh, it’s you again,” Bucky says. “That little exit you did earlier _hurt_.”

“Only your pride,” the woman tilts her head to glance at Sam, who’s wearing a concerned expression. She seems to assess him with a squint of her eyes.

“Made friends, have you, Barnes?” Sam asks.

“Not really. I don’t even know her name,” Bucky rubs his temple as he tries to focus on the present, away from the conversation he had with Natasha. “Came out of nowhere to jump me, though.”

She snorts, shaking her head in disbelief as she glances around.

“It’s time,” she announces primly.

“Time for what?” Sam asks suspiciously.

“I didn’t mean to come across you and your companion before, you know,” she says to Bucky directly. “I was meant to avoid you. Otherwise...”

“What, our group didn’t earn your treatment?”

“They would have impeded my work. I _hope_ they won’t need it,” she refutes, shaking her head. Glancing over at the Guardians, she sighs. “But they could have died anywhere after Knowhere. It was a miracle Thanos didn’t murder them where they stood.”

The information slides into place in Bucky’s mind and his eyebrows hike to his hairline in an alarmed look.

_The girlfriend. The one Quill’s been freaking out about since the beginning. ‘Gamora’, isn’t it...?_

“There is no saving you, is there?” he asks quietly. Sam watches on, waiting for the clues to appear in that eerie counselor way of his that usually annoys Bucky.

“No,” she agrees. “I died.”

A moment passes as they absorb this declaration before she continues. “I died long before Thanos' Snap. And since I died I hold a kinship with those who are doomed to reunite with me, which is how I’m directing them away from that horror if this limbo is ever reverted. Such souls do not need to live just to suffer death once again.”

Before Bucky can ask who assigned her such a heavy task, Mantis appears in front of the trio, eyes wide and hopeful. “Gamora?” she whispers quietly.

Sam’s eyebrows raise at the confirmation and he shoots Bucky a look that definitely reads with some intense annoyance.

“Hi, Mantis,” Gamora turns, pulling the hood off her head. Mantis gives an alien sound akin to a squeal and looks prepared to jump on the woman before she seems to remember herself and pulls her hands up to her face in a more subdued expression. Gamora seems conflicted like she wants to hug the woman but is holding back just as much.

Bucky can only guess why both hesitate.

“Peter’s been so worried about you, but if you’re with us here, that is good, right?” Mantis asks in a quiet but quick voice. Gamora gives a sad sort of smile.

“ _Gamora!_ ”

Bucky can see Quill running towards them, the distance covered in a short amount of time. Quill practically envelopes Gamora in a gigantic hug, clinging her to him as he cries. Bucky feels an uncomfortable sense of voyeurism, prompting him to look over and see that Drax and Groot are following Quill over, which has drawn the attention of everyone else.

“ _I told you to go right!_ Nebula said Thanos took you to Vormir and we _fought_ the bastard, but Mantis read something wrong that Thanos _murdered_ you-” he begins to blubber a series of thoughts that has obviously been churning in him since their arrival. 

Gamora’s face is tilted up over Quill’s shoulder and Bucky can see the tears lining her face.

“Peter, _please_ ,” she says, but Quill strokes her hair and continues.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew where the Soul Stone was? We could have high tailed it out of the system _weeks_ ago, sent Thanos on a merry goose chase across the galaxy. We have friends and the clout to manage-”

“Peter!” she barks out, pushing him away. Quill gets a wounded look. 

“It doesn’t matter now. Peter,” her voice softens and she runs a hand down his cheek. “I am _so proud_ of you.”

Quill shakes his head, face contorting as he visibly struggles. Bucky notes that no mark attaches to him as he’d previously witnessed with that grandmother and her little girl.

“You are safe, Peter,” Gamora whispers in relief, stepping away from him and turning to the rest of the group that has fully migrated over. “Please, if each of you would take my hand.”

Sam shoots Bucky an incredulous look. Drax and Groot queue up instantly. T’Challa steps up and nods.

“Friends, I recommend you do as she requests. I have done her inspection and harbor no ill effects,” he says. Gamora shoots him a grateful glance. Quill stands behind her, scratching at the back of his neck as he visibly struggles with trying to give her space.

Drax nods at her somberly which she returns as she takes his hand for only a moment before nodding. A similar moment passes with Groot and the younger Peter steps up without hesitation. Dr. Strange seems to roll his eyes as if finding the practice unnecessary but queues up behind Jane without comment. As Sam and Wanda wait, they both shoot Bucky a confused glance to which he shrugs.

“I was with T’Challa,” Bucky mutters to them. Quill sends him a sharp look.

“You met Gamora before?” Quill demands as he steps closer. “When? Why didn’t you say something?”

_Shit._

Bucky is entirely aware of the domineering stance the other man is displaying. Emotions are overriding whatever smidgeon of good sense Quill has, and Bucky can see the desire to punch something, someone, anything. Gamora hisses, “Quill!”

“It’s not like she _introduced_ herself,” Bucky points out, trying to stay neutral. He’s not about to begrudge Quill the space to expend his frustration, but it’s still not high on Bucky’s priorities. The Guardians seem to have a bizarre dynamic that Bucky is far too tired to really give a shit about.

“Yeah, but it’s not like we’re trying to meet new people here. You could have mentioned it, dude!” Quill yells, obviously passed reason.

Bucky shoots T’Challa a glance, somewhat glad the king is avoiding the argument.

“She knocked me on my ass, okay? I didn’t think-” Bucky begins.

“ _You attacked her?_ ” Quill roars. “You son of a bitch!”

Bucky realizes the futility too late, Quill is too overwrought to be reasoned with. He can hear yelling all around him, the moment hanging. He notes Strange calculating in the background, the humorous sight of the younger Peter trying to shield Jane from the altercation, Sam and Drax attempting to jump forward to pull them apart, the screaming of Wanda and Gamora.

All of it hits him at the same time as Quill’s knuckles fly towards his cheekbone. Instinct kicks in and Bucky dodges the attack, watching as Quill’s right hook goes wide and the man stumbles.

“That won’t help, Peter!” Gamora screams in the background.

Drax grabs Quill’s fist as it causes the man to lose his balance, tethering the man to him as Quill struggles with his emotions.

“Peace, friend,” Drax murmurs and Mantis reaches over to touch Quill’s brow. Quill relaxes into a blubbering mess, sinking to his knees. 

Bucky steps back, mind spinning as he hears an echo of his handlers voices in his mind, knowing without checking his arm is back to its metal state. T’Challa lands a grip on his shoulder, squeezing, helping him center back from those dark recesses once more.

“Quiet!” Dr. Strange’s voice barks out over the group and they all turn to him. He’s staring into the horizon, the area oddly devoid of most souls. The only groups that remain other than their own are shadow beings. 

“Dr. Strange, sir?” Parker asks, obviously confused. Strange holds up his hand, sending Gamora a severe look.

“We were your last?” he asks her. She nods.

“Then we are still on the right path. You should all prepare yourselves,” Strange declares.

* * *

The earth gives a slight rumble that reverberates through the laboratory. Steve glances at Shuri, instantly on guard, finding the princess’ expression just as alarmed as she darts to a console. The _Dora Milaje_ that is stationed by the door walks over to Shuri, obviously not taking any chances with the care of her princess.

Steve finds a Wakandan guard appear to push Dr. Cho out with a bunch of the other scientists, which she complies with instantly, shaking her head as she mutters. “ _Ani_... this is _not_ happening again...”

Steve can see Dr. Cho send him a severe nod before disappearing out of the room with a bulk of the lab coat attired people. Steve glances at the monitors in the room, tamping down hard on his anxiety of all the readings pinging in caution. “What’s going on?”

“There are multiple portals opening out on the outskirts of the grasslands. Easily a dozen, maybe more, and they’re multiplying closer to the palace. Thor is doing a decent amount of work shutting them down, but they’re cropping up faster than he can disrupt them. Our forces are beginning to mobilize to take the fight to them, give us time to figure out what we can do here to slow them down,” Shuri says, eyeing the compartment holding the three stones warily as she simultaneously brings up a drone feed.

Tony has a pinched look, watching the situation unfold, instinctively activating his Iron Man suit over his body sans helmet. Bruce is next to Vision, trying to put on the junior iron suit he used in Zen-Whoberi. The android stares at him unhelpfully until Bruce finally manages to catch a release and it feathers out over him.

“Here!” Shuri calls as she directs a drone to the source of some of the readings. Steve can see the pocket of a portal, ominous with its blue smoke, begin to spill out all manner of creatures. Chitauri and Outriders are the most prominent, but Steve is just glad the portals are small enough that no Leviathans can make their way through.

“He’s sending his force through the portals to confuse and distract us,” Steve states, shaking his head. “And we’re down numbers from the last time. Do you think your warriors can hold them off long enough for us to secure the stones?”

Shuri snorts. “Like there's any other choice.”

* * *

Darcy wakes suddenly, head pounding. A horn is howling in the air from the distance and she glances around in a panic of confusion.

_Thanos is here._

She slowly realizes that she’s still in Natasha’s room, alone, with a rather odd looking suit spread over her like a blanket. Frowning, she bites her lip.

_They left me behind. Again. What if I’d had another fit?_

The bite of anger dissipates almost instantly when the front door slides open and Valkyrie appears with Subira.

“Miss Lewis!” Subira says as she rushes over, dropping a bag on the floor once she kneels by Darcy. She immediately shoves monitoring beads on Darcy’s wrist who knows it’s a common way for them to get accurate, yet non-invasive, health information.

“I take it Natasha told you I was here?” Darcy asks Valkyrie who waltzes through the room in a leisurely manner, sword on her shoulder.

“Amidst fighting off an Outrider, yeah,” Valkyrie says. “Portals are popping up all over the facility.”

“What?!” Darcy exclaims, trying to shoot up off the couch. A wave of dizziness hits her and Subira stabilizes her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Natasha threw me this thing with directions of how to get here and yelled something that sounded like you were hurt here. I caught Subira here as I was heading this direction, someone I actually recognized who knows about your condition,” Valkyrie continues, holding up a small device displaying a map.

“Easy,” the nurse says. “The fact that you’re up right now makes me think it wasn’t like before with your falling comatose spells. So we can monitor you, but I can’t guarantee a response if...”

“Yeah. No. Yeah. My head just hurts a bit. It’ll go away,” Darcy’s muddled response ends in a declaration as if she can will her headache to go away. “You should be helping your own people. I’ll be fine.”

Subira frowns before nodding solemnly. “I’ll be needed in the labs.”

“Are you sure? That’s probably ground zero right now if portals are popping up,” Darcy says as the nurse begins to close her bag back up.

“I will be needed by the Princess,” Subira insists. 

“Alright,” Darcy says as she picks up the suit that’s slid off her. “Guess this is for me.”

“Correct. I did not personally work on it, but Ms. Romanoff asked the Princess to build you that as a precaution,” Subira explains, eyeing the fabric.

“Precaution? For what?” Valkyrie asks.

“Anything. You were ripped through an unknown portal, weren’t you?” Subira asks Darcy who frowns. “Likely she wanted you prepared.”

“When did she even have time for this?” Darcy mutters to herself as she begins to strip. “The woman must never sleep.”

“None of you Avengers do,” Subira declares with irritation. Before Darcy can argue the implication of being an Avenger, she continues. “Dr. Banner refused to rest consistently, which I found odd until the appearance of Hulk. Then once we arrived in New York...” Subira breaks off, shaking her head with a disapproving sniff. “Our King did not get away with such negligence of his person. Many would step in before such would happen.”

“Downside of feeling responsible for the planet, I suppose,” Darcy decides to reply diplomatically as she shoves her foot into the suit, pulling up zippers. “And before this madness started, that was kind of my job. So I get it. We’ll have a giant nap pile once the purple maniac is dealt with.”

Valkyrie looks mildly amused, watching as Subira helps Darcy. Once the last zipper is pulled up, the loose suit seems to sense Darcy’s body and cinch slightly in appropriate areas so it won’t catch on things.

A sudden drop in her stomach makes Darcy grab at Valkyrie, who takes her arm in response.

“What is it?” Valkyrie demands. Darcy shakes her head.

“I have _no_ idea, but it can’t be good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many moving parts in the next few chapters. I'm having a bit of a 'fun' weekend, which is undoubtedly going to cut into my writing/editing. Regardless, I'm going to try to get a chapter every other day next week, and hopefully finish it out before Captain Marvel's release.
> 
> Have a great weekend. :)


	28. Chapter 28

The laboratory is a bustle of activity as Steve finds himself pushed to the side next to a monitor, one which shows Thor working in tandem with Rocket in the middle of yellow plains as enemies appear. He watches as an all-terrain vehicle conveys a group of warriors towards the battle when a portal cracks into existence in its path. A handful of men jump off of it as the vehicle stutters to a stop, exploding in a brilliant show of light in the next moment. The portal in the feed continues to grow, wavering only a slight moment from the disruption, enemies instantly pouring out to crawl over the vehicle and jump on the unprepared men.

“Thanos must be siphoning the Power Stone into the Space Stone. It would take an incredible amount of energy to keep all of these open at once, especially through an explosion. How can we disrupt them?” Bruce asks as Tony walks to the crate, swiping against the pad there that instantly pops the crate open.

“I could fly out there and try to close them with the Time Stone,” Tony says, pulling out the Time Stone within a glass box from the crate, which then slides shut and locks. “It would stymie how many enemies your men would have to fight.”

Steve send him a sharp glance.

“The last time you used that stone, we almost lost you to its power,” Steve argues. “Using that stone is suicide.”

“Eh, I think I really got the hang of it the last time, I just went a bit too far-”

Steve is about to argue when another monitor starts beeping and Shuri runs across the room to look at it. “This is an _extreme_ spike. He’s siphoning an unprecedented amount of energy-”

“How long does it take to get to those grasslands from here?” Tony asks grimly, setting the glass box on his arm and watching the nanites build the Time Stone into his suit.

“On land? An hour or so. By air? Ten minutes, maybe,” she explains.

“Okay, so I’ll head that direction and start working with Thor-”

_Crack!_

Tony is interrupted by the sound of a portal crackling into existence on the other side of the room. It spreads out like a storm, stretching slowly as it obviously struggles to open amidst all of the interference of the vibranium rock in the cavern laboratory.

Steve reacts without thinking, ducking down behind a workspace, glancing over at Shuri. The Princess activates the armbands on her wrists, pointing them at the portal without hesitating. Her guard twists in a smooth motion, a spear clicking out in an instant.

“The stones!” Shuri screams.

Steve realizes that there is precious little barring the stones from being snagged from their position in the middle of the room and does a roll towards the set of crates. As he stands, Outriders burst out of the portal, one of which lands on him and sends both of them to the ground.

“Vision! Secure the stones!” 

Steve hears Shuri’s call as he finds himself pinned down. He holds the maw of the Outrider from biting into him, feeling the claws scratch in futility against his suit. There’s a disgusting sound as he manages to rip the creature’s jaw off, wincing as an ichor dark blood splatters over him. Shock hits him as he sees a bloodied hand spear through its skull, causing it to go limp. As Steve pushes the dead Outrider off him, he sees Vision standing there with a placid expression, the same ichor blood up to his elbow.

“No! We can’t leave the stones!” Shuri protests as she is pulled out of the room.

“ _You_ are my priority!” the guard argues from behind the door.

Steve picks himself up to run to the crate holding the other two Infinity Stones, watching in his peripherals as Bruce tries to follow the princess but is cornered by one of the creatures. Bruce holds up a hand, the junior suit building a small blaster into his wrist that he shoots off into the creature instantly, the small shot hitting the creature square in the chest. It stumbles a moment before leaping at the doctor.

“Help Bruce!” Steve orders at Vision and is a bit surprised when the android diverts his direction from the crate to obey. Vision jumps up and over directly to Bruce and lands on the creature, immediately setting into ripping off a limb from the Outrider. Bruce gets a spray of dark blood over him as he crawls away to the door, Vision breaking the neck of the creature before following him out of the room.

Tony is blasting lasers at the portal as more creatures appear, cutting them in half before they can get too far in. Steve finally reaches the middle of the room where the rest of the stones are housed, directly facing the portal that crackles ominously there. It struggles to remain open, smaller than any of the other portals Steve saw through the monitor previously. He begins smacking at the locks on the crate, trying to get it to open.

_We have to get these out of here!_

The crate cracks open and as Steve’s hand reaches into the crate to grab the stones, Thanos steps through the portal with a glowering expression. He’s only wearing a chest piece with an odd sort of caged pendant that is glowing with the three Infinity Stones they failed to acquire previously.

“Tony, go!” Steve yells.

_You can get at least one of the stones out of Thanos’ reach._

That is all that is needed for Tony to blast up directly out of the room, slaloming between the stalactites hanging from the ceiling as he finds an exit out of sight, leaving Steve alone with Thanos. The portal crackles before closing with a splutter as Thanos takes in the surroundings, watching as Tony disappears behind a column of rock.

Steve pulls his shield off his back. It feels good to have it again against such a foe and Thanos tilts his head.

“You. I remember you,” Thanos states as he walks forward. “I didn’t expect you to be so strong.”

Steve shrugs. “Never skip leg day.”

“You know, I have no quarrel with your species. It is unfortunate your kind is so misguided, but it makes no difference. Your efforts are meaningless.”

Thanos reaches for the crate holding the Mind and Soul Stones. Steve steps in front of them, holding up his shield. Thanos gives an exasperated huff and swipes out with his fist to shove Steve aside.

Steve ducks under the arm before shoving forward, jabbing his shield into Thanos’ gut before flipping it up and small _clang_ can be heard as it connects against the titan's jaw. Thanos looks mildly amused at the move, rubbing his chin as Steve quickly turns to grab blindly in the crate, hoping to grab the two other stones and perhaps lead Thanos on a merry chase if all else failed.

“Such pitiful waste...”

Steve has just enough of a moment to abandon his attempt and bring his shield up to take a brunt of the impact that the titan slams down on him. Steve can feel the crate beneath him buckle under the stress of his body being thrown into it.

“Why do you fight destiny? You’re _nothing_ compared to Her,” Thanos says in such a solemn voice that Steve frowns in confusion.

“Her?” he can’t help but ask.

“The Mistress who is beyond our comprehension. She delivers us all,” Thanos murmurs in a reverent tone. Steve tries to kick him away, gaining only a second before the titan plucks his ankle out of the air, yanking him forward. Steve instinctually tries to spin away - a move that has worked countless times before - but finds himself dangling in an odd position as the ruby stone in the cage glows. Thanos wears a resigned expression as Steve finds reality twisted around back closer into the titan’s grasp by the thigh. Thanos brings Steve’s leg down onto his own as if breaking an errant branch in the woods, a _crack_ sounding throughout the room.

Steve can feel the anguished cry escape him as the titan gives a soft chuckle, tossing Steve clear across the room and into a console with a large crash. The pain that blooms against his back pales in comparison to the fire burning deep in Steve’s thigh as he lands awkwardly in the rubble. Fortunately, his shield remains attached to his arm.

_I can’t fight him alone when he cheats with the Reality Stone._

A feeling of furious hopelessness takes root in Steve’s gut as he watches Thanos reach in to take the two stones out of the crate. The titan crushes their glass housing and opening the strange cage attached to his neck. Dropping them in, he turns his glance to Steve and smiles.

“Now let’s go see how Stark fares,” Thanos says. Clenching his right fist around the metal cage, the other stones begin to activate and Steve feels his body slowly right itself, standing erect despite the pain radiating in his leg.

“What...?” Steve begins to ask, but the golden stone glows as Thanos watches with inscrutable eyes.

Steve finds he can’t speak. His jaw is locked shut, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, and Thanos motions with his hand. Steve begins to take step after step towards the titan, a sinking realization that his leg must be broken by the sheer pain that shocks up his body every time he moves. Steve catches a forlorn expression on Thanos’ face before leading them out of the lab.

“I do not enjoy chaining warriors from their own free will, but you are far too paramount.”

As they walk through the palace, they pass different sets of people who pay them no mind. Steve is confused at how they’re moving undetected until Thanos turns a corner and Steve can see the same glint of red of the Reality Stone shining from before. 

“How long until we find others of your little team? What was it called again?” Thanos murmurs. Steve knows he wants no real answer, merely toying with him.

_Where are we going?_

Thanos seems to hear the thought, expression thoughtful.

“To find your friends, of course. The balance has been restored in the universe, but you... you threaten all life with your actions.”

_We aren’t the ones who brought this destruction._

Thanos hisses in annoyance but brightens as they find Bruce fighting alongside Vision, trying to fight a mess of Chitauri grunts that seem to be terrorizing a small group of Wakandans. Bruce’s eyes widen for only a moment, a lunge in his motion before Thanos clenches his fist around the cage and Bruce and Vision fall in step next to Steve.

“Three down, how many left to go? How many are near and dear to Stark’s heart?” Thanos contemplates.

Steve feels a new spike of fear as the mental image of Darcy appears unbidden in his head. The titan frowns.

“Ah, her. I thought she was an illusion,” the titan murmurs to himself. “Surely she’d impress the Mistress.”

The words send a chill through Steve as they continue on their path out of the palace into the plains. Steve can see groups of Wakandan’s fighting Chitauri as they walk out, Thanos focusing on keeping their journey clear of altercations. He aims for a pair of women on the courtyard, Natasha and Nebula, who are fighting amidst a dozen Chitauri. Steve wishes fervently he could warn them in some way.

_It’s only a matter of time before we find everyone else._

“Exactly so,” Thanos murmurs, intent on their direction.

Steve forces himself to think of a moment irrelevant to the current situation, alarmed that he could betray something with these thoughts accidentally. The thought of Darcy appears unbidden once again, her fierce expression right before leaving in Norway, the wind tousling her hair.

_Be selfish._

Steve feels a sickening certainty that his steps are sending him to his death.

_I’m sorry._

* * *

_Oh my god._

Darcy is about to turn down a path that leads to the labs but pulls back just in time to avoid the path of the titan leading an obviously coerced Steve, Bruce, and Vision through the halls. The sinking feeling in her gut suddenly makes sense as Steve’s leg is bent at an unnatural angle and his expression pained. She gets a glimpse of an odd metal cage fisted in Thanos’ hand, attached by a long chain dangling from his neck, stones obviously inside as they glow from it.

She can _feel_ the frustration coursing from Steve. It aligns with her own anger with how Thanos has gathered back the five stones. What was the point of them going off of the planet and risking their lives if the Mad Titan just snagged them all over again?

_Where is everybody?_

Darcy is desperate to find someone else, anyone else, who could help take on the titan. Her position with Valkyrie is tenuous at best and they definitely don’t have the resources to scale a direct attack at him. She’s about to dash outside to a bush to hide behind, when Valkyrie grips her arm, holding her back.

 _You sure you want to do this?_ her expression reads.

Darcy gives her an affronted look as if saying _you think I can just stand back and watch?_

Valkyrie nods and begins to lead her out of the building so they can follow at a safe distance, scanning for threats as they go. There’s an obvious path as Thanos parts the crowds of fighting with the power of the stones. Valkyrie occasionally slices at enemies who find themselves turned around during the fighting, but they’re able to follow fairly uninhibited. Thanos blessedly doesn’t notice them.

As Thanos makes his pilgrimage across the field, Darcy can see a pair of women fighting a group of Chitauri, the blond hair of Natasha and the blue skin of Nebula unmistakable. Thanos pauses to watch the pair work around each other in tandem, a mildly amused expression lighting his face as he glances back at the few Avengers he’s already collected. 

Natasha flips up in a motion where she wraps her thighs around the last Chitauri’s neck to bring it to the ground, where Nebula stabs into its gut without hesitation. The women glance at each other as if not quite expecting that amount of teamwork before shoving themselves up to assess the next threat.

Nebula’s eyes land on Thanos and she immediately launches herself at him. Darcy can’t see his expression as he’s turned away from her, but the nonchalant way he flicks his hand up to catch her midair in a blue field seems bored.

“Found a replacement for your sister already, have you, Nebula?” he bites out, twisting his hand in the air, causing her to rise. Natasha is moving in a crouched gait, a small knife making its way into her hand as she approaches Thanos. He’s glancing at Nebula for her reaction to his jab when Natasha slices at his calf, arm going wild as she’s suddenly overcome by a blast of gold and blue, freezing her in place with the blade embedded into his flesh. 

Thanos hisses in pain. “Such accuracy.”

He kicks her away from him, Natasha’s form still caged in the colorful mist and pulls the small blade out of his leg. Turning back to the pair, he seems to focus the stones at them and they both straighten to join the others. 

Darcy can see Nebula’s fury in her jerky actions while Natasha’s face goes completely blank. Thanos continues walking, turning his back to the group.

“Five now. Who could have known that assuring the stability of the universe would require such a group of people? And, ah, there’s the archer you worry over, _Widow_ ,” Thanos’ tone is so conversational, but somehow carries over the entire plains. 

Darcy looks out to her left where she can see Clint driving a small dirt bike towards them. She wants to stop him, warn him of the multiple stone's power, but there’s no way to do so without giving herself away. He throttles the dirtbike over a small hill and flies through the air over Thanos, arrows instantly firing off from his airborne position. 

There’s a burst of small explosions that cause Thanos to grimace and try to wave the smoke away. _Thunk_ , an arrow lands true into the soft area between Thanos’ neck and collarbone, causing the titan to growl and stumble away from the group. Ripping the arrow out of his flesh, he throws it down.

Clint lands the motorbike with ease, revving the engine to make another pass. Thanos grips the cage, gold blasting against Clint who stumbles with the bike a moment before shaking his head and pulling out his bow once again.

“Oh, you _all_ are full of surprises,” Thanos chuckles. “Such fortitude.” 

He’s about to blast Clint again when a man appears next to Thanos as if grown from the very ground, the unusual helmet declaring him as Ant-Man. Darcy blinks at the sheer speed of the technology, the amount of acceleration to grow that quickly surprising her when Ant-Man throws a box at Thanos.

“Wouldn’t mind holding this would you?” Ant-Man asks jovially before disappearing out of sight once again. Clint volleys another set of arrows at Thanos, the jarring appearance of the man appearing and disappearing obviously confusing the titan. An arrow pierces the box, and Darcy crouches down behind the rock at the ensuing explosion.

_‘Provided a solid distraction’. You weren’t kidding, Barton._

There's a burst of sound of the explosion that has Darcy and Valkyrie peeking over the rock, staring at the site.

Thanos remains there, looking extremely pissed off. A tense moment passes as Clint looks like he’s not quite sure how Thanos managed to contain the explosion with the stones.

“You think you’re so _clever_ ,” Thanos hisses as he brings his hand up with the metal cage of stones once again. He directs the contained fireball right at Clint’s motorcycle, the archer having just enough time to jump from it and be blasted back by how close the explosion is. He lands a few feet away from Darcy and Valkyrie who shrink back down again.

Clint groans, shoving himself upright to his feet and shaking his head, obviously trying to regain his faculties quickly. Thanos focuses a blast of gold at Clint who has no time to dodge out of the way. The man bares his teeth as he yells, the work of the Mind Stone attempting to shroud him. Darcy can see his struggle, his soul brightening as he denies the call, and he picks up his bow to loose another arrow at the titan.

Thanos looks surprised at the appearance of new arrows and adds in purple and red into the blast. Clint screams once again before cutting off suddenly and straightening to join the others.

“Ah, yes, you would hate this. Loki brought you to your knees once before, didn’t he?” Thanos murmurs thoughtfully as Clint obviously wrestles with his desire to not join the group. “Six it is. Now about the other...”

He glances around the area, squinting in the sunlight as he continues on his path. A shiver of dread passes through the air as Thanos twists his hand and a full grown man appears out of the air, falling to the ground.

_How did Thanos find him when he was so small?_

It’s impossible to read Ant-Man’s expression behind his suit, but he groans as he slowly picks himself up to join the others.

Thanos continues on his path with the collected group, stopping in front of a patterned circle that’s scarred into the earth. Darcy recognizes that it is Thor’s touchdown the last time Thanos came to the planet.

There’s a gap of enemies between Darcy and Valkyrie’s current hiding place and the female Asgardian darts forward towards their next hiding spot behind a dead rhinoceros. Darcy chases after her, adrenaline pumping hard, struggling to keep silent amidst the deeper breaths her body wants her to take. They’re successful in their dash, Thanos eyeing the skies angrily.

“ _Stark!_ ” Thanos bellows out, which prompts Darcy and Valkyrie to clap their hands over their ears as it echoes through the area in a painful manner.

A moment passes before Tony appears, flying through the air in a relaxed manner towards the small group of Thanos and his prisoners. Coming about twenty feet from them in the air, Tony hovers in place.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks. “Going to give us back those stones so we can fix the insanity you’ve unleashed upon the universe?”

Thanos growls in annoyance, gripping the metal cage as he gathers power. He jabs out his arm, blasting the legs off of Tony who goes hurtling towards the ground.

Darcy feels Valkyrie slap her hand over her mouth before she cries out, Tony crumpling in a mess of metal and circuitry. Thanos stalks over to Tony, picking him up by the neck.

“ _Where is it?_ ”

The mask pops open, the suit empty. Darcy feels a rush of relief that of course, Tony wouldn’t put himself into such a dangerous position out in the open. There was a reason for packing so much shit on their way over to Wakanda.

“Want to try that again?” Tony’s voice relays over the speaker of the suit. 

“You’re close,” Thanos throws the husk of a suit down as another one flies from afar to take over for the crumpled one. “Come and save your friends.”

“Errrrr, we’ve played that game before. I’m not _so stupid_ to come straight at you, _again_ , with the only stone keeping you from destroying all of us,” the new suit states.

“Well, I can certainly make a start,” Thanos growls under his breath.

“Hey, asshole! Eat shit!”

Darcy looks over to see Rocket on the other side, his automatic rifle pointed right at Thanos, giving the slightest of pauses before beginning to unload a clip into the titan. Thanos growls again, a blue shield forming to keep the bullets from penetrating near him.

A cry rings through the air as Thor brings Stormbreaker down in an arc, Thanos managing to roll out of the way at the last moment, the axe lodging into the dirt. Rocket’s fire clips the titan in the arm and chest, but Thanos’ emits a roar of power that blasts the creature back. Thor flinches at the force of power pushing against him and Thanos takes advantage of the hesitation of the Asgardian by kicking him away from Stormbreaker still embedded in the ground. Thanos grabs hold of the axe, ripping it out of the dirt.

Thor emits a yell of defiance as he jumps back up, rushing at Thanos in a charge, punching recklessly as lightning shoots off him erratically. Thanos dodges a fair few of the jabs but Thor, lost in his rage, opens his position up for Thanos to do a kick-punch combo that knocks him to the ground. As he’s about to push himself up, Thanos brings Stormbreaker down in the signature move Thor enjoys so much, reality seeming to bend to the titan’s will as Thor is unable to scramble out of the way.

_No!_

Light bathes the area, the captive onlookers unable to help, still caged in the whims of Thanos’ compulsion by the Mind Stone.

Thor lays there, eyes wide with betrayal, Stormbreaker embedded into his chest. He gives a few coughs of surprise before falling silent.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..._

The litany repeats over and over in Darcy’s head as Rocket lets out a scream and runs at Thanos, pulling out more guns as he goes. A few blasts against Thanos’ blue shield and the titan turns to Rocket. The creature has only a moment of warning before Thanos yanks Stormbreaker out of Thor's chest and swings it through the air, batting Rocket square in the chest with the blunt side.

Rocket wears a face of utter shock as he flies through the air to land on the ground, head turned toward Darcy at her and Valkyrie’s hiding place. His eyes are vacant, blood seeping from his snout.

_No. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go._

“You think you can surprise attack me, you who are all laid before me with the Mind Stone?” Thanos bellows. “Fools. You _all_ are where I want you to be. _Even you, **Darcy**._ ”

Darcy jumps with the spike of fearful adrenaline, not expecting Thanos to know her name, let alone that she’s hiding behind a large, dead animal. A strange madness overcomes her as she feels the cloying compulsion of the Mind Stone forcing her feet away from her hiding place, Valkyrie following right behind her. Darcy’s eyesight blurs as she’s forced out into the open, towards the group with terrified steps. She manages to slow her progression, the sheer rage she feels fueling her resistance, and she keeps a dozen or so yards away from the others. However, it’s only a matter of time before Thanos corrects her...

_This asshole watches his parents die and his world collapse, but his solution was more death. Bringing a plan to kill half of his own people, murdering his Match, gaining dominion over the galaxy by culling millions, destroying the fabric of life with his unending cause._

“So who's next, Stark?” Thanos walks over to Clint and Darcy feels her brain begin to shut down as her body won’t respond to looking away.

The iron suit that hovers in the air makes no comment. Thanos cackles as he lifts Stormbreaker to slam the flat side of it against Clint’s head and the man goes down, the entire side of his face crushed. 

_No. They can’t die like this._

“Am I not being creative enough?” Thanos yells. Dropping Stormbreaker to the ground, he rips the quiver of arrows off Clint’s body. Thanos then walks over to Natasha and begins to stab them individually into her, her face betraying the pain she’s in as he finally finishes her with a stab straight into her throat. She falls to the ground in a heap.

_No. This isn’t happening. No._

Thanos drops the quiver and yells up at the iron suit.

“How much more, Stark?” he bellows, grasping the cage in his hand. Bruce walks over as the Mind Stone glows from the cage in Thanos’ hand before all five of the stones shine in tandem as he jabs it into Bruce’s neck. A glow of power overcomes Bruce’s body, junior iron suit splintering off of him instantly as the man begins to revert into the Hulk, a howl emitting from the green beast that echoes throughout the plains.

A burst of pain in her mark and Darcy can feel Steve shake off the leftover remnants of the Mind Stone’s power over him while it’s being used elsewhere. He has an expression full of pain and rage, jumping in the air without thought. Thanos does a strong blast into the Hulk, who collapses to the ground. He turns as Steve crashes down on him with his shield, knocking them both to the ground with Steve pinning his chest.

Steve’s fists are punching into the titans face without abandon. Darcy can hear Thanos laugh as his face becomes only slightly marred by the onslaught. The titan reaches up and grabs Steve by the neck before turning to slam him down on the ground. Steve manages to swing his shield up to his chest, accurately expecting Thanos’ punch, who blasts into the shield with the power of the five stones. Steve’s shield cracks in half, the blast going straight through his body.

Darcy feels a rupture of pain slam into her chest. 

And then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be Wednesday. I finished it for sure, just have small adjustments to make, and you have no idea what a relief it is knowing I'll make my Captain Marvel deadline. :) Happy reading.


	29. Chapter 29

Darcy feels the gaping numb sensation fall through her body into her toes, her insides feeling like they’re leaking into the ground by her feet. Steve’s body has a blast torn through it with his shield cracked like an egg on either side of him, his eyes open and wide and vacant. In the backdrop are the bodies of all the other heroes, carelessly arranged in similar slumped positions.

_No._

A dreamlike state hits her, a reckless feeling of invulnerability overtaking her as she steps towards Steve, towards the bodies of all her other friends, towards Thanos. It’s like the ocean is suddenly there, invisible waves of roaring sound that tug on Darcy’s knees, causing her to stumble forward. She can’t hear anything but the ebb of the waves, the color of the world washing away, the danger of Thanos forgotten.

The titan stands from his position over Steve, watching her approach. The golden glowing of the Mind Stone in the cage, gripped by Thanos, is irrelevant as it’s beckoning aligns with Darcy’s intent. She feels a certainty down to her bones that she will reach Steve without impediment. 

Thanos smiles down at her fondly as she reaches him, Steve’s bloodied body laid out in front of their feet. Darcy feels tears slip down her cheeks as the edge of his soul isn’t visible anymore. 

“And there you are,” Thanos says softly, releasing the cage to pat her head. A swooping feeling of revulsion hits Darcy as she glares up at him.

_Tony can see all of this. Where are you, Tony? All of your friends are dead. Your nightmare is coming true. Your nightmare is our reality._

“Indeed,” Thanos tilts his head as he looks at around at all the bodies. “Stark’s sentiment will be his downfall. I can’t take credit for this, however... I’m simply staging his horrific dreams.”

“Fuck you,” Darcy chokes out, surprised that the words manage to escape her.

He seems amused at her vehemence and continues unperturbed. “Where is she?”

 _Where is she?_ It whispers in her ear, echoing around her head, insistent and panicked. A feeling that if she _doesn’t_ answer Thanos, nothing will matter again.

“I don’t know,” Darcy honestly says, voice warbling. Thanos’ eyes narrow at her, able to hear the truth in her words.

“Then I’ll have to entice her,” Thanos rumbles deep in this throat.

His pats her on the shoulder, knocking her to her knees, an order from the Mind Stone keeping her next to Steve’s body. Thanos turns to walk to the discarded Stormbreaker, picking it up in slow motion as if he’s fatigued.

Darcy can see Mistress Death suddenly appear next to her, sending her a guilty look.

_So was sacrificing all of us your plan, Mistress?_

“This was inevitable, Darcy. But there is still _time_ ,” Mistress Death murmurs.

She can hear Thanos’ steps, feet dragging ominously through the dirt as he slowly approaches her.

“Ah, see, she’s arrived, hasn’t she?” Thanos asks.

“Yes,” Darcy says, amazed at her own voice.

Thanos glances around, stepping up right next to the Mistress Death he cannot see, who looks at him in absolute revulsion.

“You reek of filth to her,” Darcy can’t help but goad.

Thanos’ eyes narrow in anger but he shakes his head, chuckling. Mistress Death’s steps whisk the otherworldly woman behind him, anger apparent all over her regal features as she approaches Valkyrie’s frozen form.

“You must be a favorite to be shown so much. I will see her when she comes for _you_ ,” Thanos declares as if he can make it so.

He begins to lift Stormbreaker, the stones in the cage hanging from his neck glowing mightily as he builds up strength behind the weapons own power. Thanos holds the axe above his shoulders like a bat.

_So this is how I die._

Darcy stares up at Thanos with resignation when a flash of silver appears behind him. Valkyrie is there, her runic sword poised in the air above her head as she takes aim at Thanos. 

“For you, Mistress...” Thanos murmurs, completely focused on his task, bringing Stormbreaker down in a wide swing towards Darcy’s kneeling form.

The moment passes slowly in front of Darcy’s eyes as Valkyrie jabs down into Thanos’ back and _misses_.

A _shlink_ sound is heard as the sword connects with the chain on the titan’s neck and Valkyrie twists the blade, breaking the links apart, the sharp edge lodging into Thanos’ neck. The metal cage filled with the Infinity Stone rattles as it unravels off of the broken chain, falling to the ground next to Darcy’s knees.

Thanos roars in surprise at the strike to his neck causes his swing to go askew. Darcy closes her eyes as she feels the force of Stormbreaker fly over her head by a fingerbreadth, the wind tousling her hair. He lets it continue, spinning completely around, choosing instead to smash Stormbreaker into Valkyrie. It blasts her through the air and knocks the axe from Thanos’ hand, landing on the ground next to Valkyrie with a _fwump_ , who crashes to the ground just as unceremoniously.

Darcy exhales in terrified relief at how close death passed over her as the Mind Stone’s mental binds fall away. Nebula bursts into motion in the same moment, jumping on Thanos to grab at the runic sword still embedded in his neck. He howls in anger, trying to snag Nebula off of him, but she’s too quick. An iron suit flies through the air, shooting at the ground around Thanos to push him back as he struggles with Nebula.

A moment later, Darcy can feel her mouth drop open as the ginormous form of Ant-Man suddenly appears at a height that she can’t even begin to guess. He kicks out his foot, connecting with Thanos and Nebula, causing them to fly through the air to land in a heap a dozen or so feet away.

A set of iron suits fly that direction to intercept, a myriad of shooting sounds emitting from the area. The giant form of Ant-Man follows, his movements slow but impactful, as Nebula dances around Thanos, cutting at him when she can.

Darcy glances over at Valkyrie, the female Asgardian’s body still and silent. Darcy blinks hard, the realization that Valkyrie is gone hitting her, and tries to dislodge the tears that stream down her cheeks once more.

_No, not Valkyrie too..._

A soft blast of heat hits the side of her legs and she turns to the iron suit that’s landed next to her. Hysteria bites at her and she pulls the cage of Infinity Stones into her lap.

“I don’t need a puppet suit, Tony, _I need you_!” Darcy cries out, turning to hit the suit in the arm. She jumps back in surprise as she clings the cage closer, hiccuping a sob as the mask melts away revealing Tony’s stricken face.

“I couldn’t... couldn’t... he had the stones... I...” Tony struggles to say anything coherent as the suit’s nanites pull away from the Time Stone that’s secured to his wrist. He pauses only a moment before clasping it in his hand. Darcy’s eyes widen, gripping his wrist.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Tony!” she hisses. 

“I’ll fix it. I’ll fix all of it,” Tony mutters, ignoring her. His voice is monotone, eyes focused on the carnage around him, mind obviously caught in the nightmare of his friends’ deaths just as much as Darcy.

He activates the stone, causing a shockwave to pass over the world, with Darcy pulled into his bubble of time as she holds onto him. The world seems to wobble as time struggles to listen to Tony’s desire.

“Tony-” she begins in a panicked whisper, unable to convey the terror at watching the world conflict against itself to maintain stability. Tony’s expression is devastated as he wrestles with the Time Stone.

_Tony needs help. Where is help?_

Darcy reaches down with her other hand, scared at what will happen if she releases Tony, and unclips the metal cage. It opens, revealing all of the Infinity Stones. Glancing at Thanos, she confirms he’s still occupied with Nebula and Ant-Man before taking a short panicked breath. Darcy reaches in and pulls out the Soul Stone.

_We need help!_

Grasping it with shaking hands, Darcy activates the Soul Stone without thinking of the ramifications of potentially combining it’s power with the Time Stone. 

Souls burst out in every direction, the realm of souls overlapping the real world in an instant. A sinking sensation overwhelms her as not only the Soul Stone glows, but the others in the cage connect to her.

Souls appear all around Darcy and she can see the aghast expressions of them all. Bucky has the detached visage he wears so carefully, Wanda and Jane holding their hands over their mouths in horror. Darcy’s interrupted by her scrutiny with Dr. Strange kneeling by her almost instantly as if expecting the visit. “We have seconds to get this right, add Stark in _now_ , Darcy!”

“You have a phone call,” Darcy blandly states to Tony’s wincing confusion before she grabs his mark, twisting it around her hand that holds the Soul Stone. She can tell the moment that Tony can see the entirety of the lost souls as his eyes widen, jarring him from his downward mental spiral.

“What the fu-” he begins. 

“There’s no time, Stark, _pull back_ before it consumes you!” Strange barks at him.

To Tony’s credit, he only gapes at the soul form of Dr. Strange for half a second before the world shudders back into more fluid movement. Strange stands, motioning Tony to do the same and begins to instruct Tony how to use the Time Stone properly. As Tony stands with Dr. Strange, Darcy loses her grip on the man and is relieved when she remains in his terrifying bubble of disrupted time, connected through her holding his mark. She winces at the fluctuating power that she can feel courses through her, gripping the cage tighter.

Tony and Strange hold a rather short conversation that escapes Darcy and a band of emerald appears on Tony’s wrist as the real world’s tempo begins to properly slow to a crawl. The fighting between the Wakandans and Chitauri begin to pause in the distance, Thanos’ movements slowing as he battles Nebula and Ant-Man. Darcy turns to look at Tony, who is walking the area, sweat growing on his brow as Strange conducts his spell through instruction. 

Finally, the glint of emerald around Tony’s wrist seems to fully stop, his form managing to hold the spell steady. A silence crashes over the area as the shrieks of fighting and howls of Outriders cease, time in the real world completely stopping. The bustle of the Soul Realm continues unimpeded by the real world freezing as Darcy can see shadowed souls grouped together begin to gnash and wriggle at their restraints. 

Darcy isn’t sure if they’re going to attack only her, her form brightening a bit with the appearance of the Soul Realm, and sends a concerned look to Tony. He looks remarkably well considering the experience they had last time with the Time Stone which causes Darcy to frown in confusion. Glancing at Tony’s mark, she can see it trails down into her hand, shimmering as it meets her other hand holding the cage of Infinity Stones on her lap. As Tony works, the power drawn and diluted from the stones is just enough to power his intent.

_I am holding **all** the stones' power? And I’m feeding it to Tony?_

The thought causes Darcy’s brows to knit.

_Is that why I feel like I’m about to burst?_

With the acknowledgment of the power she’s connected to, Darcy begins to curl down into her knees, pain beginning to wash over her. She can hear Jane scream at her in the background but can’t bring herself to stand.

“You need to move, Darcy!” Jane tries to tug on her to get up. Darcy’s not sure if her mind is just too overwrought with the events of everything or if she’s being fed a lethargy to the danger from the stones. It doesn’t seem to matter.

Tony and Strange approach her, standing over Steve’s body, and Tony glances at her briefly before building a second dial on his wrist with the Time Stone.

“Hold on, Half Pint-” he says.

“You won’t need to go far, just enough-” Strange is saying as he directs Tony’s motions, the movements so specific that they begin to blur together. They’re conferring so quickly that Darcy doesn’t really register what they’re saying. The second band on Tony’s wrist begins to rotate counter-clockwise. A moment passes and Darcy feels a flicker against her arm, the slightest brushing against her mark. 

A siphoning relief from the power cracks inside her through her wrist, which prompts her to look over at Steve as her eyes widen in surprise. The time around his body begins to reverse in slow motion.

_The Time Stone can restore them back to their original state._

Her own words to the group feel like an age ago, the proof of her statement showing itself as the broken chunks of Steve's shield shove past her. The pieces find their rightful place, covering the gaping hole in Steve’s chest, mending together.

Her mark practically _sings_ with relief, the power draining away from her through her mark.

“Steve?” she asks in a quiet whisper, but he’s still going backward. Dr. Strange flicks at Tony’s hand, the dial disappearing as they stop pulling Steve’s body back from death. Steve’s expression is grim and determined and full of fear as if he’s fully aware of the blast he’s about to take from Thanos. 

Tony and Strange move along to Hulk, the dial appearing once again on Tony’s wrist as he pulls Hulk back in time. Hulk stays in his large form as they move along to work on Natasha’s stabbed form.

Darcy can see the strand from her wrist to Steve is now vibrant once again, connecting to his mark that is flush with light. A mad desire to laugh hits her and she takes an uneven breath before pulling on their mark, Steve’s connection to her, and twisting it around her hand as well. Steve’s brought out of the frozen real world into their bubble of time with the sight of the Soul Realm that’s she’s connecting him and Tony into. He sits up in shock as s breath of reprieve escapes her as she feels the ebb of power ease as it finds a new escape.

“Darcy! What... happened? Where’s Thanos?” Steve asks as he stands up, looking around wildly before his eyes land on a familiar male form. “ _Bucky?_ ”

“Steve,” Darcy whispers in relief as she stands with him. It’s him, unchanged, the promise of the Time Stone holding true. She shifts the cage into the crook of her arm, opening her palm to him, the Soul Stone glittering softly there. “Time is frozen, so Thanos is not the most immediate threat. Everyone you see moving is in the Soul Realm, which I’ve connected you to.”

“ _This_ is where you’ve been going?” Steve gapes, looking around at all his dusted friends.

“Once, yes,” Darcy admits. “I couldn’t tell you, Strange told me not to...”

Steve glances over at Dr. Strange who’s in the middle of conducting more resurrections through Tony, Natasha’s form already upright as they work on Clint. She can see where he calculates each dusted person with a mental list. “All right...”

“A little help?” Bucky cries over from his position from wrestling with a shadow creature. 

Steve blinks at the creature in Bucky’s arm. “What the _hell_ are they?”

* * *

Bucky strains at keeping the shadow creature away from biting at any part of him, keenly aware of how precarious this position he’s in. He feels a strange disconnect, unconcerned that he’s fighting a monster that only someone's deepest nightmare would showcase. Not to mention how the world is the bizarre realm laid over the real world.

The source of the disconnect is Natasha is standing next to them, frozen in time, and Bucky is trying to not look at her too closely. An acute sense of relief that she’s no longer laying on the ground as she had been, Stark’s work pulling her back from the quiet of death, had been distracting him from his attempts at keeping the creature in place.

As the creature struggles, Bucky takes the moment to glance at Steve. The man has an obvious injury to his leg but is managing to stay upright and is taking in the Soul Realm in stride.

“They want me, I’m not sure why-” Darcy answers Steve’s question.

“You are their hope, Darcy,” Wanda says as she presents herself, red magic wrapping around the creature Bucky is struggling with. He appreciates the respite as Wanda’s binds let him loosen his hold and Wanda yanks the creature unceremoniously over.

“You can cleanse them,” Wanda continues, pointing at the creature’s face which Bucky can see still has a sliver of M’Toka’s face peering through from behind the darkness. “You wiped off some of this boy’s infection when you left before.”

“I did that?” Darcy asks in confusion.

“Yes. Bucky was also almost overtaken until you circumvented the process with connecting him to his Match,” Wanda explains. Darcy’s mouth gapes open as she processes the information and Wanda pushes the creature down so Darcy can fully inspect him.

Darcy emits a sound of excitement as she finds something that Bucky can’t see. She reaches out towards the boy's ribs, tugging on seemingly nothing, before a sizzling sound is heard and the shadows practically melt of M’Toka within moments.

M’Toka immediately begins screaming as soon as his face is uncovered, the young boy understandably terrified, and Wanda releases the more constrictive restraints but holds his feet together with a worried face.

Mantis steps up to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder, the screams instantly silencing as she soothes him. She then nods at Wanda who releases the magic and Mantis leads him away.

“We will keep you safe over here, young one,” Mantis murmurs in a soft voice, pulling him towards Gamora, who stands with a conflicted expression as she watches.

Bucky turns away from her to see Steve step closer to Darcy. She’s watching the boy be taken away from her with a tired face. “Darcy?”

“So young,” she whispers.

“Can you bring everyone into this realm?” Steve asks her, glancing around at all their dusted friends.

“What?” Darcy glances up at him in confusion.

“Bring everyone into this pocket of time. When we’re all gathered, we can fight Thanos... together.”

Bucky kicks away another shadow creature which escapes Parker’s efforts. The poor teenager keeps sending concerned looks towards Stark, which doesn’t surprise Bucky in the least as Stark had brought the kid to Germany. There is definitely a kinship of some sort there, but Stark is so focused on his work that he’s not even noticed Parker.

The man Bucky recognizes as Hawkeye is upright once again, face pristine as he’s brought before death, Rocket flying through the air backward as the pair conferring around the Time Stone bring him back to life before they turn to work on Thor.

“Bucky,” Darcy states, drawing his focus towards her. “Can you stand next to Natasha? Distance makes this... harder...”

Her breath is labored, sweat lining her brow as she fiddles with something he can’t see on her hand. Bucky steps over to Natasha, ignoring Steve’s absolutely gobsmacked look, and Darcy gives a small smile.

He can see her pluck at his string, drawing it taut as she wraps it around her fingers. The world bursts into brightness as he can see all of the marks of his companions, her motions against her hand suddenly making sense. As Darcy completes braiding the strand into the knitwork of marks on her hand, Natasha jumps into motion instantly.

Bucky grabs at her, worried that her distance will break the connection and she’ll fall out of their time again, and she twists around to sweep a leg under his. He jumps just in time to avoid her maneuver, doing his own twist in the air. Natasha punches him in the gut as he lands, which knocks the wind out of Bucky as he grabs her hands and yanks her with him to the ground.

 _< Easy, Natalia,>_ he wheezes out in Russian as she struggles.

Natasha blinks, finally registering who exactly she’s fighting and freezes. A moment passes before she looks up at him, eyes betraying just how unsure she is.

“This certainly explains a few things,” Steve mutters in the background.

“Shut it, punk,” Bucky grouses. 

“I died...” Natasha’s voice is confused. “Am I in the Soul Realm with you?”

“No, Darcy connected you to us after Stark pulled Time back for you,” Bucky explains softly.

Glancing at Darcy, Bucky frowns as he realizes that the brunette is clinging to Steve, who’s holding her mostly upright. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he frowns down at her in concern. 

“It's _too much_ ,” she says as the mixture of the stones and the number of marks on her hand pulse brighter. The marks she’s braided in seems to have multiplied, shooting off into tendrils over her body like a strange sort of gown. “It gets better... easier to spread out... the more marks there are, but... the stones are _fighting_ me.”

“Here,” Steve says, taking her hand to flip it over, the Soul Stone transferring to his palm. He hisses as it latches into his skin with glowing amber, their own mark holding the connection to the web of marks that seems to expand out from Darcy. Darcy emits a small relieved sigh as Steve squares his shoulders, a gratified look of being useful in his eyes.

“You idiot. That stone could have killed you, for how little we know of it,” Darcy murmurs fondly up at him. “But... you helped. Instead of a jolt constantly, it’s dialed down to a buzz.”

Steve looks around, frowning at the cage still nestled in her arm, and sees Tony working on the last of the dead, Valkyrie. 

“Take a stone, Natasha,” Steve instructs suddenly. “Darcy’s dispersing the power.”

Natasha looks over at Tony before turning back to Steve, and Bucky can see her draw her own conclusions. A sharp nod is all she does before stepping forward to pluck a stone at random, the sapphire color immediately staining the skin of her hand. Natasha grimaces as the power ebbs through their mark into the web on Darcy’s hand before shooting back to Bucky, who answers with his own hiss of pain.

_If this is what it feels like with its power restrained, how did Thanos manage it before?_

Quill takes this moment to stomp over with Groot, two shadow creatures bound together by branches of the tree-being. “Can you hurry up and fix these kids already? You owe us big time for the protection detail, princess.”

“Like she’s not in the middle of something more important,” Bucky snaps at Quill, but Darcy steps forward. Darcy makes quick work of it, the shadows dripping off the poor kids rather rapidly, but she pauses as she glances at Quill.

“Here,” Darcy says as she pulls on the braid that slims out like a long rope, wrapping it around Quill’s wrist. She repeats the motion, adding Groot in, and Bucky can see by how Quill’s eyes widen that the marks appear for them as well.

“Whoa...” Quill says softly, looking around at everyone's mark. Looking out towards the group by Mantis, Bucky can see him catch sight of Gamora. Quills expression shutters.

“Oh, hell no...” he mutters and then is gone, running back to her.

Bucky frowns, wondering what trouble the man is going to borrow now, but Darcy’s already moving to Wanda to wrap the marks around her wrist and cleanse the next batch of corrupted souls that the witch carefully pulls towards them.

* * *

Clint finds himself suddenly aware.

The moment prior, he was in the air, fighting Thanos with Scott, hoping to make even a smidge of difference that could tip the battle in their favor. It’s not like they’d get a second chance. His will had been stripped from him, but he could feel the compulsion of gold to march his steps and resisted. It wasn’t until the world around him had twisted into a landscape of dreams in front of him, horrors snapping at his feet, that he propelled forward.

_The Reality Stone is horrifying._

But before he could contemplate the different tricks of the Infinity Stones, the flat side of an axe came barrelling into his face and pain splintered across his face before... nothing.

_How long was I there?_

But everything bursts back into focus, suddenly. It all feels rather surreal as the world seems to hang in a strange moment before bursting into motion. He is about to fall over, but a hand grabs his shoulder to keep him upright. Clint turns to the owner. His surprise is acute when he sees Wanda there, a grey pallor over her person, wearing a small smile.

“Wanda!” he exclaims.

“Hi, Clint. I found your family but left them where they were. I am glad I chose such, as it would be terrible for them to see these horrors,” Wanda says softly. “I remember the loss of my loved ones and was never the same.”

“What horror?”

“You died. Don’t you remember?” 

Clint frowns. There are bright strands shooting in every direction and it’s mildly distracting.

“Time is a strange construct. I am glad we have its assurance of reprieve,” Wanda says.

“You need to take a stone,” Natasha states as she walks over to him, holding up her left hand glowing with a sapphire stone. “Darcy can’t juggle all our marks and the power.”

Clint looks at Darcy who’s obviously overwhelmed but manages to send him a strained smile. His sight pings from her to Steve, who’s hand glows with an amber light, and then over to Tony who is bathed in his own emerald light as he brings Thor back. 

_We’re the gauntlet?_

The thought pings through his mind as he reaches into the cage to pull out a stone, finding it land on Power Stone before gripping it in his hand. A wave of energy hits him and he struggles to stay on his feet. He can see the energy travel through his mark back to the web, a circle of power, spraying its own amethyst hues against the braid.

_If we can all hold a piece, we might all survive._

“Am I seeing you because Darcy is holding my mark?” he asks. Wanda nods. Darcy is already walking away, working on a set of shadow creatures that baffle Clint. A moment passes as she works on one before a human is found underneath the shadow visage, horrifying Clint.

“I spoke with Dr. Strange about her abilities... what I found in her when she visited our realm once. That portal she was pulled through was not of our universe. Not like the realms she was stumbling through, no, that portal was not of our reality. A gift was left for her when she was broken there,” Wanda says softly. “I doubt even she knows the extent of it.”

“Not of our reality?” Clint repeats.

“Makes her a perfect vessel for the stones’ power, really,” Wanda ponders aloud. “She can be neither here nor there.”

_The hell does that mean?_

Darcy approaches a now standing Thor, drawing him in with the mark that shoots off to the woman Clint recognizes as Jane Foster. Despite the female astrophysicist’s soul form, she looks far closer to the woman he remembers from Puente Antiguo, unlike Darcy who has always seemed battered in comparison to his memory. Jane’s brow knits together as Thor wakes and sees her. 

There’s a tense moment when obviously neither of them know how to address each other. Thor busies himself by holding out his hand, calling Stormbreaker to him from it’s discarded place on the ground.

Darcy murmurs something to the pair of them, holding out a ruby stone with a grimace.

Thor looks at Jane.

Clint can see Jane eyeing the stone with trepidation. Considering the mission reports he’d read on the Convergence and just how much the Aether traipsed around in her body, he’s not surprised at her caution. Finally, Jane nods.

Thor takes the stone, the ruby red of the Reality Stone unmistakable as it permeates into the cluster of marks. Darcy’s form is practically adorned with the marks like a bizarre gown, the shimmers of color showcasing how many marks have multiplied and braided together.

Tony finishes with his task of working on Valkyrie, walking over to Darcy. They speak a few words before a man Clint recognizes as Dr. Strange steps in the middle of everyone.

“All of the dead are now alive,” he begins. “The possibilities of this timeline have been harrowing, but we are all here through the near impossible. We are all here at this moment to succeed in one last task.”

“And what is that?” Clint calls out, eyebrow raised.

“To end Thanos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, this actually prompted a bit of a rewrite yesterday out of the blue as I realized something wasn't quite right. The sheer amount of people and items and positions to keep track of is kind of overwhelming, so I'm sorry if I'm kind of brushing a few characters aside as they're not important to whichever POV character at the time.
> 
> But Time Stone shenanigans have fixed a lot! Hopefully, it's somewhat clear as it's difficult to explain how the realms are interacting without getting a freaking flow chart, I swear...
> 
> And gore was reverted! I had a whole discussion with a friend about 'how much is too much...' and I'm glad I toned down what I did have already...


	30. Chapter 30

Darcy leans against Steve, fatigue causing him to cup her elbow, ignoring whatever Dr. Strange is saying in favor of leading Steve over to Hulk. She isn’t sure how agreeable Hulk will be when she pulls him in and she glances down into the cage at the Mind Stone, the last Infinity Stone she’s saved specifically for him.

_With how the Mind Stone paved neutral ground between the two, it makes the most sense. But... I don’t know who is in there... is it Bruce? Will he shrink down and be vulnerable? Or will Hulk be there and refuse to fight?_

Tony shoots over to them, eyeing the strands flowing off her body warily. “How are you holding up?”

“How are _you_ holding up, Tony?” Darcy asks with a sigh. The silver dusting at Tony’s temples seems to have deepened up along his hairline, making his visage appear even older than he really is. “I know I’m helping cull the amount of power you’re working with there, but it still looks like hard work.”

Tony frowns as if he wants to refute it but knows he can’t. “Sooner we get this done, the better.”

Darcy nods, biting her lip as she considers Hulk.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asks, a wince on his features as if he’s holding back a door.

Darcy lets out a huff. “I don’t know if it’s Bruce or Hulk in there, or if either of them are agreeable at the idea of holding the Mind Stone.”

“Does he have to have one?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” she replies instantly, blinking in confusion at her own conviction. Tony and Steve glance at each other with raised eyebrows, disbelief mirrored on their features.

“You six have been the forefront of our worlds defenses since the beginning of Thanos’ attack in New York. There are six stones. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last few weeks is there are no coincidences.”

“We could always use Nebula, she’s obviously strong enough-” Tony begins but Steve is shaking his head.

“She tried to use the gauntlet on Zen-Whoberi, Tony. But some otherworldly force refused her, knocked her down. Did she ever explain what she was trying to do?” Steve points out. Tony frowns.

“When I was helping her repair her arm, she said something about pulling her sister back to life. She seems to think they’re both necessary to defeat Thanos,” Tony explains in a mutter.

“Exactly why she can’t have one. She’ll use it _against_ you,” Darcy asks. “Not to murder you, but to undermine your intent. The woman has been grieving her sister all this time... and you six have lost, lost so much, but when you work _together_ , you succeed together. You six are... everything.”

Tony’s eyes land on the dusted Queen’s kid that Darcy met briefly and he startles, a strange scream blasting over the area as time pushes forwards a few moments. Tony winces, wrangling for control over the spell.

_Tony was so focused he didn’t see him before._

Dr. Strange flounces over with a frown.

“You won’t be able to hold it much longer,” Strange states, eyeing the dial around Tony’s wrist that seems to be crumbling from the sides. Tony’s brow furrows as he purses his lips, obviously unable to deny it. Turning to Hulk, Tony motions Darcy to their giant green friend.

“Time is up, Half Pint.”

Darcy takes a deep breath, the itchy feeling under her skin from the power of the Mind Stone already beginning to irritate her. Reaching out, she grasps the duo colored strand of Hulk’s mark, pulling him into their time.

Hulk _roars_.

Darcy cringes, braiding the strand in between her fingers quickly, a bit amazed at how quickly it nestles in with the others as Tony holds up his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! You’re good!” Tony states firmly up at Hulk, who glances around with a fury, obviously reliving his last few moments as he calms down.

“Hulk?” Darcy calls up to him with a squint, straightening as she tries to ignore the power seeping her strength.

“Banner... loud. Hulk hear,” Hulk grumbles, pulling at his ear in obvious frustration.

“Yeah, that really sucks. But do you think you can help me, Hulk? Earth needs you,” Darcy states firmly, motioning behind her to Thanos.

Tony and Steve send her an unsure glance but Hulk tilts his head as if considering.

“Earth hates Hulk,” Hulk refutes.

“Now we both know that’s not true, but we’ll have to talk about that later,” Darcy continues. “You can help everyone by holding this stone and smashing Thanos.”

She holds up her palm to Hulk, the golden Mind Stone shimmering up at him. “You aren’t alone, Hulk. Your family will be right there with you.”

Hulk blinks, glancing at the other Avengers whose hands are glowing with their respective Infinity Stones. He can see Thor, who is watching the interaction play out, send an encouraging but solemn nod, holding up his own glowing red hand.

Darcy remains still, hand poised in the air, feeling the emotional weight of the debate between Banner and Hulk through their collective mark. Her arm falters, the pain of her injury and the drain of balancing everyone marks beginning to take a toll on her already overtaxed body.

_C’mon, Hulk. I wish I didn’t have to twist your arm like this, but I can't imagine any other way._

Hulk finally reaches down, putting his mammoth hand underneath her small one so he can carefully take the stone out of her palm. The Mind Stone nestles into his skin instantly, causing him to howl out slightly, but Darcy can already feel the shift in power off of her and she stands taller.

A moment later, Hulk gives a grin as he grips the stone tighter.

“Hulk have the stone. Smash Thanos now.”

“Whoa, give us just a moment here, Hulk, we gotta strategize or something for a quick minute, ‘kay?” Tony holds up his own hand, Time Stone visible. Steve is nodding in agreement with Tony which makes Hulk pout. Natasha walks up to him to put a hand on his wrist and he startles at her.

“We missed you, big guy,” Natasha says simply. Hulk frowns at her as Clint and Thor come up to confer with the rest of them.

Darcy nods at Tony before turning away, letting them plan amongst each other, looking around for any more shadowed souls she may have missed. Wanda seems to be holding a single last one back and Darcy walks over. She’s about to cleanse the last corrupted soul when Quill interrupts her, dragging over a woman with green skin to her. Darcy feels her eyes widen.

“I know you-”

“Why haven’t you tethered Gamora in?” Quill demands. “You got everyone else.”

“Peter, no-” the woman - Gamora apparently - refuses and Darcy frowns.

_Why is she so familiar?_

Darcy doesn’t hesitate, as making a loop of the marks attached to her is second nature to her now. However, when she tries to drape it over the woman’s green wrist, it slides right through her.

“I’m _dead_ , Peter,” Gamora argues as Quill turns to grip at her shoulders. “What other proof do you need?”

Quill shakes his head furiously, obviously unable to process the concept as he pulls her close to him. The green-skinned woman’s face screws up in obvious pain.

“I have to go, Peter,” she cries out softly. “Thank you for showing me all that a family can be.”

With those words said, the woman kisses his cheek and shoves herself away from him, running over to a crowd of souls that have been pushed to the side, little green markings visible on them. Darcy frowns, wondering how she missed them.

“ _Gamora!_ ” Quill cries out, falling to his knees. Mantis steps over to him to put a hand on his shoulder, obviously trying to temper his reaction.

The woman in question turns to glance at him, a sad smile on her face. She turns and puts her arms out to usher the souls tinged with green. Before Darcy can interject, a moment passes as they walk out of sight, disappearing in a soft moment. Despite Mantis’ efforts, Quill’s cries echo through the area. 

The relief of distributing the stones begins to fall aside as a new itch begins to burn against Darcy’s skin, the power shimmering over her as the marks expand over her arms completely, twisting around her, weighing her down. As she turns back to the last shadowed soul that Wanda presents her, expression worried, Darcy gives her a reassuring smile. The work over the shadowed creature is quick, a girl no older than twelve appearing, before Wanda nods solemnly and leads her away. Darcy manages to hold herself upright for a moment longer before she feels the world tilt under her feet and she stumbles to the ground. 

Steve walks away from the group conferring together and kneels, grabbing her right shoulder that is bared of the glowing marks. “How much longer can you hold this?”

Darcy tries to send him a reassuring smile but fails miserably as a wave of power washes over her and she wavers.

“I don’t know,” she says softly. “The sooner you take care of Thanos, the sooner this madness can end.”

Steve glances over at the frozen Thanos, frowning. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with us moving from you?”

“Marks stretch like you wouldn’t believe, Steve. But... I don’t think Thanos can die,” Darcy says softly.

“ _What?_ ” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm.

“Death doesn’t want him, Steve. All of these horrors he’s inflicted... the slow death of his parents, his people... his own hands murdering his Match to impress her... I can only guess he’s the last of his people because Mistress Death scorns him for all that he is,” Darcy replies, shoulders slumping as she finally speaks the fear that has been building in her head since her panic attack on the ship. 

“If we can’t kill him-” Steve begins but she interrupts.

“You will have to shackle him. You have the stones, you should be able to do _something_ with all this power siphoning through me, right?” Darcy gives a weak smile. “Go. Avenge. I’ll be here.”

Steve’s expression is stony, eyes searching her face for something. Darcy’s eyebrows quirk up in confusion - goodness knows she’s tired of hiding things from Steve, so it feels relieving to say things without worry - but this appraisal is different. He leans down to kiss her forehead before standing.

“Stay safe, I’ll be right back,” Steve murmurs down at her tenderly. She sends him as reassuring a smile that morphs into a grimace again, watching him walk over to Tony and the other Avengers conferring with him.

_I want to tear off my skin._

The thought hits Darcy so suddenly that she is jarringly _aware_ of how much energy is passing through her, testing her limits, tugging at her in a way she isn’t sure she can explain. Fortunately, it seems like the group of Avengers has come to an agreement because Darcy isn’t sure how much longer she can hold everyone’s marks together.

“Darcy? Are you okay?” Jane asks as she sits down next to her. She reaches out to touch the marks, head tilting as she can feel the texture despite her noncorporeal form.

“Yeah,” Darcy murmurs softly, not really sure what else she could possibly say that would be even moderately reassuring. But she can see the reason why Jane questions her as her form shivers with light unprovoked as power seems to build under her fingertips. Steve turns to send her a last glance before turning with the six towards Thanos.

“There they go,” Darcy says softly as the group begins to march, prompting Jane to look over as well. “Off to avenge.”

As the group begins to run, Darcy can see Tony’s form already begin to flag and the dial at his wrist begins to disintegrate. Time releases and the real world begins to shift again with a burst of sound that prompts Darcy to recoil.

Nebula continues from her previously paused motion, panting in exertion. She does a spin to swipe at Thanos, who kicks her square in the chest, knocking her down.

“You still telegraph your movements. No amount of upgrades could break you of that habit,” Thanos mocks her as he dodges around Ant-Man’s giant foot. Glancing up at the large form of Ant-Man, Thanos jumps up to punch at the device on the giant’s belt, cackling in mad delight as Ant-Man’s form shrinks down almost instantly.

“Shit!” Ant-Man yells as Thanos proceeds to pick him up by the arm and throw him like a ragdoll. Ant-Man lands in a heap on the ground, stirring softly as he groans in pain, holding his shoulder.

Thanos turns to see Steve and Tony with the collected group behind them as they approach him. Steve is hobbling, the break in his leg apparent, but undeterred. The six walk to him with purpose glowing from their prospective stones, the dusted souls behind them that Darcy isn’t sure Thanos can even see. The sight makes Darcy’s breath catch in her throat.

_They’re all together. Nothing can stop them._

Thanos doesn’t seem surprised by the appearance of so many dead alive once again.

_He’s had so much time to obsess over the Infinity Stones, he probably knows more of their powers than anyone else._

She can see Rocket launches himself themselves after the group, obviously wanting his own piece of Thanos. Chitauri fighters finally seem to notice their master in the fields, however, and Rocket gets caught with climbing over one to steal the gun out of their hand and begin firing at the others who attack him. Valkyrie seems disoriented as she comes to awareness before her eyes land on Darcy. She steps over to Darcy immediately, rubbing her head in confusion but finds herself distracted by punching a Chitauri soldier that dares approach Darcy’s prone form.

Hulk jumps over Thanos to bar any retreat the titan might attempt, the pair of puppet iron suits flying around to join him. Tony launches himself into the sky to take a position next to Hulk, Steve and Thor arriving in the next spots just as Natasha and Clint close the circle around Thanos. There’s a bit of confusion as the dusted souls follow to outline the area, taking spots in between the Avengers. 

Darcy can see the moment Thanos realizes they’re surrounding him, frustration bluffing out of him. “You have the stones... no matter. You’ve collected them for me, well done. It will be a _joy_ to garner her attention as I peel them off your corpses.”

Thanos jumps out at Tony, hand missing Tony’s leg by an inch as the suited man rockets back. Hulk then barrels into Thanos, fist glowing gold with the Mind Stone, swinging it wide right into Thanos’ gut. The titan gives a quick exhale of pain as he flings himself forward over Hulk’s fist, avoiding a strike from Tony who flies by, before straightening again.

Natasha nods at Steve who holds up his shield while bracing his good leg behind him, her running at him to launch off it. Flipping in the air, the Space Stone smooths her landing on Thanos’ shoulders and twists her legs around his neck. With his bow snapped out into a staff, Clint rolls in between Thanos’ legs as the titan begins to thrash, trying to get Natasha off of him. Clint jabs the Power Stone into his leg, sharp bursts of power connecting through the titan in an arc. The dusted souls push forward, Bucky and T’Challa darting around as they try to grab onto Thanos’ limbs but it only slows the titan slightly.

They’re able to slow Thanos even if he can’t see them.

As Darcy watches all of this unfold, she can see the marks glowing in tandem with Infinity Stone use. Tony flies around, aiming his laser to hit the ground next to Thanos, prompting the titan back towards Thor. The Asgardian slams the flat side of Stormbreaker into Thanos’ left arm, obviously crushing the limb. Thanos manages to roll in a way to land in a kneel before standing up slowly, hindered by how the dusted Quill and Sam jump on him to try and tug down on his movements.

Watching their fight, the moves become a mess of motion that Darcy can barely follow. Steve is up the next moment, backing away as Thor swings Stormbreaker at Thanos. Nebula finds her way into the fray, grabbing Natasha’s hands to do a kicking move that seems impossible for anyone less limber. Hulk starts to herd Thanos back into blasts of Tony’s missiles he fires off. Thanos cackles in a mad delight, rolling on the ground to dodge the different sets of volleys sent his way. Despite his dance, however, more dusted souls begin to grab ahold of Thanos, the sheer number of them causing a disruption to his dodges. He seems aware of the sluggishness of his actions and falls to his knees, the semblance of defeat.

“Is this what you do with your enemies?” he asks. “All your fighting... and for what? The universe is culled, my job was done, you should be _thanking_ me.”

Tony’s feet drop to the ground, walking with purpose right up to Thanos.

“You _broke_ the universe, you asshole!”

“Lies!” 

Nebula manages to step forward at this moment, adjusting her grip on the runic sword, and opens a small compartment on her thigh. Darcy can see she's not the only one confused as Nebula pull out a small corn cob, holding it up at Thanos’ eye level.

“I stole this from your little crops on Zen-Whoberi. Try to farm with _this_ result,” Nebula hisses before crushing it to Thanos’ face, the green plant disintegrating into ash against his skin. “Your solution starves the entire _universe_!”

“ _Lies!_ ” Thanos roars and bursts out with his arms, knocking Nebula back as Tony blasts into the air. Hulk roars in response before dashing forward to punch Thanos right across the face. Thor brings his hand down to the ground to shoot lightning out at Thanos, who screams in anger as he falls backward.

He lands on his back which prompts Natasha to stab into Thanos’ good hand into the ground with a blade, pinning it there as Clint holds down Thanos’ opposite leg and Hulk steps on Thanos' other foot. Nebula is instantly on top of the titan with the runic sword, stabbing down into his heart.

Dark blood spurts out from Thanos and he begins to laugh.

“Always wanted to do that, didn’t you, Nebula?” he ask. Darcy isn’t quite sure how she can hear the quiet words, being such a distance away, but doesn’t question it.

“ _That’s for Gamora!_ ” Nebula screams down into his face. Thanos manages to throw her off him with his uninjured hand.

“Steve!” Thor yells, tossing Stormbreaker through the air at him, the man positioned by Thanos’ head. Steve plucks it out of the air, seemingly surprised at the lightness of the axe, before turning to swing it high. A grave conflicted look passes over his face for a slight moment.

“Mistress Death will finally welcome me,” Thanos murmurs, somehow audible over all the fighting.

_No, she won’t._

“Darcy,” Mistress Death slides into view in that eerie way of hers. “It’s time.”

A strange detachment hits Darcy as she realizes Mistress Death has never fully explained what it is she is meant to do. The otherworldly woman pulls her along towards the fray, Darcy’s toes skimming the ground as her gown of marks trails behind her.

Darcy watches Steve as he brings the shimmering Stormbreaker down right on Thanos’ neck. Thanos makes a garbled sound of pain, the axe caught halfway into his neck. Darcy can see the uncertainty on Steve’s face, his blows not usually failing, as the titan writhes against the restraints of living and dusted alike holding him down. Suddenly, Tony’s form lands with a giant sledgehammer built around his feet directly onto Stormbreaker, driving the axe completely through Thanos’ neck.

* * *

Steve steps back at the light that blooms, a large screaming sound heard from the titan through his mind. The malevolent cry echoes through the plains, causing many to cover their ears as it pierces the area. Steve squints as he can see darkness seep out from Thanos’ entire body, Stormbreaker’s light fighting for dominance over it. Tony stumbles from the top of the axe next to Steve, panting heavily.

“He’s not dying,” Tony asserts, eyeing Thanos’ body in concern. The light and darkness are battling, held in limbo.

“Death doesn’t want him,” Steve says as he turns to look over at Darcy. 

“ _Darcy!_ ” the panicked cry of Jane hit Steve’s ears right as his gaze lands on her. A stab of dread hits him as her form is upright, far closer to them than he realized, the gown of marks glowing around her as she comes forward. Her hair blows with a slight wind, a look of regret over her face.

_No._

The light of Darcy’s being causes the rest of the group to turn to look at her. 

“Steve,” Darcy says as she finally steps next to him, brow furrowed. “I can _feel_ them.”

_Feel who?_

“Darcy, what are you-” Steve begins, reaching out for her. A force pushes his hand away, invisible to him.

Darcy grimaces as a wave of light passes through her and a tear runs down her cheek. “They want... to come home.”

Tony tries to grab Darcy from behind, the same force denying him. He looks affronted, starting to squeeze the Time Stone once again before Dr. Strange yanks on his arm. “ _No_ , Stark!”

Darcy glances at everyone, sorrow dripping from her eyes. “I love you, Steve. I’m sorry.”

_No!_

“Darcy, no, please...” Steve punches at the air around her, his fist hitting a barrier that causes a splintering pain to spasm through his hand. She pushes past him to stand over Thanos, the titan caged by Stormbreaker’s power but still very much alive. There is darkness seeping out from under the light of the axe and Darcy tilts her head as if listening to instruction.

Everyone slides away from Thanos suddenly except Darcy, as if pulled away by a magnetic force. Darcy kneels next to Thanos by his feet, hair falling over her shoulder as she leans to inspect his leg. There’s a gash in his calf that Steve can see, gushing out with darkness.

Darcy murmurs to herself, whisper indistinguishable, as she looks up at the sky. Steve feels a certainty that she’s listening to someone else while her hands seem to twist the marks.

“ _Darcy!_ ” Steve yells out.

She turns to look at him as a vibration begins to build up underneath the earth. The marks around Darcy’s form blend into a kaleidoscope of color, her expression determined. Her hand reaches out to touch Thanos’ leg, the energy built up behind her shooting down into Thanos’ body.

A keening wail pierces the air as Steve jumps forward towards Darcy, invisible force be damned, when light envelopes the area.

Then all he feels is flying.

* * *

Bucky squints at the sun overhead. He’s lying on his back, uncertain of how he ended up in this position. The last he remembers is being shoved back from Thanos before a comforting warmth shuddered over his body. Gripping blindly at the ground, he feels a chunk of dirt crush between his fingers.

_Dirt._

He glances to the side, seeing the familiar Wakandan plains of dead grass. For a disoriented moment, Bucky isn’t sure if he’s real, trying to reach out with his left arm to shove himself up. Nothing happens.

_Good or bad, I always had an arm in the other realm._

Looking over, he sees a plated stump at his shoulder and grins. 

_We’re alive._

Jumping up, he can see all of his companions from the Soul Realm in various stages of waking up with conflicted expressions. They’re spread out amongst all of the living, the fighting over as the Chitauri and Outriders have completely disappeared.

Natasha is laying on the ground next to him, face peaceful. Bucky leans over her, grabbing her left arm to see if the sapphire stone is still stuck to her skin, but it’s gone. Pinching at her wrist to check her pulse as well, he’s relieved as he finds a steady beat there. 

“She alright?” Sam calls from his position over Bruce.

“Just unconscious,” Bucky replies, looking out at the horizon. “Does Banner have a stone? Nat’s been stripped of hers.”

“ _Vis!_ ” Wanda shrieks, running past Bucky to jump on the android who is sitting up, eyes darting quickly as he assimilates data. The golden stone twinkles at his brow as his pale form rights itself with the familiar garnet shades.

_Well, that answers my question._

“Wanda,” he whispers. Wanda bursts into tears with a wide smile as she cradles his face in her hands. “I... believe I may need some assistance... there’s... much information...”

She sobs a laugh as she nods in agreement, burrowing her face into his neck and holding up her hand with red tendrils to soothe his brow.

Bucky looks over to T’Challa to see him being crowded by many Wakandans, cheering and laughing as they reassure themselves of their Kings return. Parker is padding over to Clint who is knocked out as Jane runs to look over Thor. Dr. Strange is checking Stark’s pulse, who’s lying in a slumped position on the ground.

There are sounds of joy all around him, Bucky even hearing excited hollering from the Guardians. He continues to walk around wildly, a stone of fear sinking into Bucky’s gut, eyes landing on the spot where Thanos had been restrained.

There is no sign of the Mad Titan.

“ _Steve?!_ ” Bucky calls. “ _Darcy?!_ ”

But they’re both gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! This has been such a trip. Only two more chapters to go! :)


	31. Chapter 31

Darcy pushes herself into the Soul Realm, the first reprieve from all the pain she finds. Glancing down, the gown of marks has melted off her body leaving a solitary strand of her own mark, leading into the distance. Looking around the desaturated landscape, she can see souls in the distance still disappearing, presumably returning home. There’s an odd set of some souls with a green sheen covering them that stand in a group, the Gamora woman next to them, smiling sadly at her.

“Why are you here?”

“I didn’t feel like ripping off my skin here,” Darcy says with a shake of her head, the woman’s familiarity confusing her. “How do I know you? You know, before Quill dragged you out to me.”

“You interrupted me with the Mistress once.”

Remembering the woman disappearing at the time in a huff, Gamora’s face clicks with that happenstance meeting.

“Oh... that’s right. She said you were avoiding a task.”

Gamora snorts. “You’d avoid it too. My task was gathering these souls. The stories they’ve told have been rather depressing.”

“Who are they?” Darcy asks.

“The dead. Or mostly dead. They will not survive returning to the real world.” 

“What do you mean won’t survive?” Darcy demands, frowning. “I felt a bunch of souls returning home a moment ago, why can’t they?”

“They will appear where they died. It would be cruel for them to experience death slowly once again.”

Darcy covers her mouth with her hand, horror dawning over her.

_These people found themselves in a strange world, devoid of color, with rampant fear of how do we get back. Then they would return to their home, brought back to the place where they last existed. When they were once in flying craft to plummet to their death. When they were driving their vehicle on a busy road, only to be plowed into by traffic. To know the certainty of death once more as they’d meet their end._

“I see,” she says sadly. “I... I thought we could save everyone.”

Darcy startles as Mistress Death appears at this moment to interject. “No, Darcy, there’s always a cost.”

Mistress Death reaches out in a motion that seems to split the very fabric of reality into two. A doorway of blinding white with rainbow edges forms and a woman steps through it with golden hair, outfitted in a regal manner.

“Thank you, Lady,” the woman says softly to Mistress Death, turning to the group of green marked people. “These are the last of them?”

“They are,” Mistress Death says as she pulls out a pouch from her twinkling cloak. “As are these.”

The woman takes the pouch before turning to Darcy. “It is a joy to see you, my dear.”

Darcy feels confusion acutely as the woman begins to invite the marked with green into the portal that looks so similar to the one that had eaten her up long ago. “Do I know you?”

“Lady Death had warned me of your... unconventional appearance into my domain and I protected you as best I could. You passed momentarily through a broken window to our realm long ago. It has been lovely to meet my son's other Midgardian friend,” she glances over her shoulder with a small smile.

“Queen Frigga holds open the door to the Afterlife as I bring souls to it, where she divides them with her husband to Folkvangr or Valhalla,” Mistress Death explains softly causing Darcy’s eyes to widen. “Then one day they fall back asleep and meld into our realm again, where I mark them once more and we begin anew. A cycle of life and marking and death.”

_Frigga?_

“You’re Thor’s mother?” Darcy asks, feeling incredibly sheepish.

_How many times have I used her name in exclamation?_

Frigga’s eyebrow raises in amusement as if she’s in on a little joke that only the two of them know. “Verily.”

Darcy gives a small sheepish nod at the goddess’ graciousness.

The last soul passes through the doorway and Gamora steps up to Frigga who shakes her head, holding out an arm to gently bar Gamora’s entrance.

“No, Gamora.”

“But I died! Thanos threw me off the cliff! I remember falling! _I died_.”

“Your death held more purpose than your demise. You have brought so many souls mercy, so mercy is given to you,” Mistress Death says. 

Frigga nods solemnly at Mistress Death, who returns the motion. The queen smiles at Gamora, leaning over to kiss her brow. Gamora has a moment of utter shock lining her face before she disappears in a slight flutter of movement. 

“They love her dearly,” Frigga says softly. “If it had been any less, she would have perished. Darcy, I look forward to the day we meet again.”

The queen gives a small wave to Darcy before passing through the portal. Mistress Death closes the doorway quickly.

“If souls follow along to a new, uh, plane of existence, why couldn’t you have shoved Thanos in there?” Darcy demands.

“Corrupted souls such as he do not go to the Afterlife. They... stain. It is difficult to correct.”

“Then where do they go?” Darcy continues.

“Anywhere else.”

Darcy frowns.

“You were attacked by souls corrupted in a similar fashion. You were also attacked by a tainted mortal, who warned you of such dangers in the Astral realms. However, Mordo is not beyond saving,” the otherworldly being says. “His... disappointment left him vulnerable. But that is for another time. You are needed elsewhere. Come.”

Mistress Death holds out her hand. Darcy hesitates, not entirely satisfied with the answers given to her.

“Can we heal those who are corrupted?” Darcy asks firmly. The idea of darkness festering freely disturbs her.

“You now have ample experience with the gift I left you. You saw the darkness in Mordo and felt a calling to cleanse him, did you not?” Mistress Death says in an exasperated tone. “However, there is no grand evil that is directing them. Their own choices brought destruction. Your work will only help them if they desire it.”

Darcy nods in understanding, finally taking Mistress Death’s hand. She finds herself pulled into the purple realm, Mistress Death giving her a small nod before disappearing.

Darcy realizes instantly that the realm is _not_ empty.

She purses her lips, looking between the six beings hovering there, feeling like she’s been shoved into a meeting she has no business to be at. Their forms are wispy and light and not at all distinguishable except for their shades, the shimmering jewel tones flashing as they seem to argue in a language Darcy cannot hear.

_Ask the mortal._

The very air begs the question and Darcy shivers, remembering the same sensation after saving Tony from the Time Stone. That vibrating intent in the air conveying more than words spoken.

“Ask... ask me what?” Darcy whispers, unsure if she’s the mortal they’re referencing.

The gold form shimmers an extra moment before forming a wispy body, shape tall and broad with golden skin wearing Vision’s face.

“We were to destroy all. Perhaps start anew. Perhaps sleep. Annoyance. You have reverted. Pride.”

The disjointed speech is almost lost on Darcy, frowning in confusion.

“Hide once again. Will you?” he finishes. 

“You want me to go hide you guys again?” Darcy asks to which the golden Vision nods. “Uh, can’t you do it yourself?”

“More... difficult. Better with mortal.”

“And what’s to keep people from finding you again?”

“Delay with cog.” 

Darcy’s eyes dart around nervously, uncertain of what cog they’re speaking of. The amber form shifts to the side and a completely bound Thanos is lying there. Shimmering bands of soulmark strands twist in various colors around him, whispering hints of whose marks bind him. His eyes are covered and he makes sounds of distress and anger through his gag. Darkness spills off him still as if evil makes up his entire being.

“Uh...” Darcy isn’t even sure where to begin. 

“Corrupt. Broke all. Bound soul. Punished now,” golden Vision reaches over to pull at Thanos, a limb tearing off of the titan still encased in soulmarks. There is an eerie silence that contradicts with the violence of the motion. Golden Vision seems to compress the limb into a small bundle, darkness wrapped in light, and pushes it against the wispy form of his chest, consuming it.

“I thought Mistress Death made him practically immortal by denying him her touch,” she finally replies in confusion.

The golden Vision nods, the small bundle trapped inside of it. “No release. Pieced apart. Cog in fabric until Time ends.”

“Is time going to end?” Darcy asks, worrying her lip with her teeth. The other jeweled shades begin to tear Thanos’ body apart, following the golden Vision’s actions. The ruby wisp consumes the bit of Thanos’ soul ravenously.

“All end in end.”

_Very helpful, thank you._

“Welcome,” golden Vision replies to her thought and she wrinkles her nose.

“Where, uh... where do you want me to hide you?” Darcy asks “Will it take very long?”

“Three hide. Power, Soul, Reality. Space traveler.”

Darcy rubs her forehead in concern. “Where are Mind and Time going?” 

“Time stay. Keeper... empirical.”

She can’t help but snort. “Yeah, Strange is so smart he handed Time right on over.”

The golden Vision shakes his head.

“All paths Time surrendered. Knowing _when_ , death or life... pragmatic Keeper,” he explains.

“You’re telling me that all paths led to Dr. Strange giving up that stone?” Darcy asks. “Dead or alive?”

“Yes. Keeper empirical.”

_Glad we cleared that up._

“What about Mind?” she questions next. “Or, you, I suppose.”

“Bored. Mortals intricate. Learn,” golden Vision replies while motioning to his form. “Perfect vessel. Remain.”

“So what’s keeping a new asshole from coming to Earth and picking you and Time up, then?” Darcy grumbles.

“Awake. Anger. Destroy,” Vision’s face seems to glow brighter and brighter in anger at the thought before calming instantly back to his placid expression. “Vessel not know.”

“You’re going to _sleep_ in Vision unless you’re threatened by being caught up in another infinity war?” she clarifies.

The golden form nods solemnly.

“Vow. Sleep slow. Mortals slow. Learn intricate,” he affirms.

Darcy sighs. Glancing at the different forms, most are wearing a rather blank seeming expression except the ruby one which is almost vibrating with angry energy.

“What do you need me to do?” she finally replies.

* * *

The sidewalk is scorching hot, ice cream dribbling over the sides of the two waffle cones onto his skin he’s holding in his hands. Steve squints at the sunlight, a haze over his perspective as he gathers where he’s at.

_Coney Island._

The disorientation of being amidst a crowd of faceless people is balanced out with the knowledge that this is definitely a dream. Society just doesn’t dress like this nowadays, all suits and knee length dresses, and there’s a strange softness to the world akin to Wanda’s visions.

Steve glances around, wondering what prompted his mind to conjure up a time lost long ago. In the distance, a familiar woman with her hair carefully arranged is in a queue for _The Cyclone_.

_Darcy._

He drops the ice cream in his haste, walking towards her with purposeful strides, his previously broken leg uninjured. Something about the dream is circumventing him though. A crowd of noisy kids walk in front of him, blocking his view momentarily. That barrier passed, he sees Darcy step forward to the front of the queue and turn to laugh with another faceless person. There are a dozen or so ropes cordoning him away from her. The electric purple of her dress shines like a beacon to him, that shade having no right in this 1940s world, the rest of the scenery drab in comparison.

A woman steps up next to him with a raised eyebrow, wearing the deepest black outfit he’s ever seen. Steve finds his feet turned around without his permission as she grabs his arm and cranes his neck to look back, watching Darcy get admitted onto the ride and fastened in.

_Darcy!_

The words don’t make it out of his mouth, the dream making him mute. He manages to cease his motion, pulling away from the woman, only able to watch as the ride begins and Darcy’s carried away.

Suddenly, a new world appears in front of him, a small shop filled with bicycles. Outside of the window, streets follow a canal that’s filled with boats. Pedestrians and bicyclists are everywhere, milling carefully between each other as they travel.

_Amsterdam?_

The street the area looks familiar to the district around where Darcy had lived, from the little Steve remembers of his travels there.

_Am I supposed to find her again?_

He steps out of the shop when a burst of amber flies past him, nearly knocking him over.

Steve jumps back, glancing at the culprit, finding Darcy pedaling on without looking back. Her entire dress is shimmering in an amber hue, her hair floating like a banner behind her. Steve grabs the nearest bicycle, hobbling onto it as he struggles to follow her.

_Wait! Darcy!_

It’s not too difficult to track her, but the roads seem to open up for her in unusual ways. Pedaling through intersections completely straight, the other traffic doesn’t seem to even notice her. People step up to shops and examine things in windows as she approaches. Her path is carefree in comparison to his wild weaving. 

Darcy turns a corner around a tall building and Steve steps up his pedaling to make it around faster. As he turns, the same woman in the deep black clothing shoves a cane out between the spokes of his bicycle and he overturns.

There’s no pain as Steve flips onto his back, just frustration that Darcy has eluded his sight, and he jumps up to confront the woman.

The woman puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head. Removing her hand from her face, she holds up five fingers before slowly counting down to zero.

The world dissolves once again.

The scenery that appears has all the same architecture and cleanliness of Krylor, a large impressive courtyard spanning around him. Unlike the other settings, this one is almost entirely devoid of people, a few stragglers of pink-skinned aliens surveying the grounds with various devices.

Immediately in Steve’s sight is Darcy, this time bedecked in a ruby outfit, sitting still at a large water feature in the middle of the courtyard. She’s dipping her hand in the water, looking contemplative, and he begins to run over to her.

She slowly stands to stand on the edge of the fountain, the dress beginning to shimmer in a brighter ruby hue, before she faces out towards him.

_Darcy!_

He’s so far away, he’s not sure what tricks his mind is playing with him, showing him these strange places and keeping her from him.

Darcy smiles at him and mouths silent words.

_I’m sorry._

She then throws her arms out and leans back. The world flickers, like pages fluttering as the setting changes from the courtyard to a vast desert. There’s a dark ice biome that shifts to the barren lands of Titan. All of them shift the fountain into different styles until the last one, a dark planet with a simple pit. The flickers are so fast that it disorients Steve, causing him to slow, and he sees her form tilt back in an exaggerated fall.

She disappears.

Steve runs, glancing around him as the world finally settles back into the courtyard with the fountain. Stopping, Steve leans over his legs as he tries to calm the doubt clouding his mind, looking into the fountain only filled with water.

_Where did she go? Why did she go?_

“The Infinity Stones must be hidden once again,” the woman in black appears next to him.

“Oh, we can talk now?” Steve demands, glowering up at her from his hunched position.

“Would you distract her from her purpose? This is all in your mind, Stevie, but your call is a powerful draw to her,” she explains.

Steve straightens, utterly perplexed at the woman. _Stevie?_

“You have always been a favorite of mine. As Thanos would pursue me, you would adamantly _refuse_ me,” her lips twist in a small smile. “In any case, you shall only hinder her if you do more than you already are.”

“And what am I doing?” he asks.

The woman tilts her head in consideration. “You are the beacon home. Over time, over space, you are the path back.”

Steve frowns in uncertainty.

“Oh, Stevie, you always wanted to know why your Timer was so long. Thirty-six thousand, two hundred and fifty-six days. I marked you the day you were born. Who would have such persistence to believe in marks after that span of time?” she smiles sadly. “The truth is that the longer your mark is in our universe, the easier it is for her to find it. You give her an unusual beacon to aim for, and once she’s on correct the path, she will find her way home.”

He blinks in wonderment.

“I thought-”

“That you were to lead her to her doom. I know,” she tosses her head. “Who else would have the fortitude to trust? Most humans have difficulty with doubt. _You_ rarely have. Do not doubt now.”

* * *

“Where’s did they go?” Bucky demands as he looks wildly around the Wakandan plains. Strange glances towards a treeline as T’Challa motions over one of his kinsmen. The king grabs a wristlet and begins to pull up different displays. Glancing towards the treeline in the distance, he nods in that direction.

“Readings show Darcy was propelled into that glade,” T’Challa says. “Go. I will send-”

Bucky is running before T’Challa can finish. He can hear Sam and another set of feet follow him as he jumps through the treeline that has been blasted apart. Glancing around is an obvious path, revealed to him in a mess of tree limbs that are broken. In the distance, Bucky can see it leading to a wall of rock. A small creek twists around the hard ground.

With a squint, he can see the form of two bodies laying half out of the water.

“Steve!” he yells, making a beeline towards their position. The distance to them feels like an eternity, making Bucky marvel at how far they traveled from the position in the field.

_All that power blasted them this far?_

He slides to a stop, seeing that Steve is cradling Darcy’s body to him protectively, and begins to pull them out of the water, feet sinking into the mud. Pulling the unconscious man off of his Match, Bucky lays Steve flat on his back to check the pulse at his neck. The steady beat is lighter than Natasha’s, but there. Bucky turns to see Dr. Strange is next to him, working simultaneously on Darcy.

A familiar emerald stone is in the man’s hand.

“How the fuck do you have that?” Bucky demands. Dr. Strange ignores him, activating the stone while holding his hand over Darcy, a wristband of symbols appear around his arm as he stops time around her.

Slumping to the ground, Dr. Strange heaves out a breath.

“It actually worked,” he pants, a wild look appearing over his face. Bucky’s eyebrows raise as the man loses all composure and breaks out into a hysterical laugh.

Sam and Jane run up, unable to keep the same pace as the other two. Jane drops down next to Darcy, reaching out to touch her when she notices the shimmer of green over her friend and Jane pulls her hand back.

“What did you do to her?” Jane demands at Strange. He pulls his breathing into regulation, sobering his mood.

“Froze time for her at this moment. She needs intense medical attention that we cannot give in this fucking wilderness. This gives us time to transport her,” Strange explains, standing up.

“Why not just pull time back before they were blasted into the rock?” Sam asks harshly.

Strange sends him a dark look. “Would _you_ like to chance our universe unraveling yet again?”

Sam frowns, opening his mouth before changing his mind and shutting it.

“Indeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will facilitate her travel.”

With a swoop of his arm, a sparking portal opens up beside him and Strange waves his arm to levitate Darcy into the air. Jane looks conflicted for a moment, looking back at the field and at Darcy. Shaking her head, she steps up next to Darcy.

“I’m coming with her,” Jane says fiercely. Strange nods.

They pass through the portal that leads into a sterile environment, Strange bellowing. “ _Christine!_ ”

“What about Ste-” Bucky begins to ask but the portal slides shut, leaving Bucky and Sam with an unconscious and very battered Steve Rogers. Bucky can see in the distance a group of Wakandans headed their way, carrying stretchers and other medical equipment. Looking up at the rock, he can see exactly where Steve’s form hit it, a large chunk of rock broken out in his vague shape against the cliff face.

“Steve took the blast from her,” Bucky murmurs. “All that power and he still tried to save her.”

Sam eyes the wall as well, brow furrowing. “How did he survive that amount of force?” 

“No idea,” Bucky says. “But go fucking figure that Steve would try anyway.”

* * *

In a moment of utter awareness overtaking him, Steve wakes.

A moment of disorientation surprises him, as he expects a room similar to the medical bays in Wakanda, but instead sees the canned lights of a medical room from Avengers Tower in the ceiling.

_How did I end up here?_

“Steve?”

He turns towards the voice, a strange sense of deja vu hitting him as the last time he heard Bucky’s voice ask his name in such a question, the man fell apart into nothing.

“Bucky?”

“Hey, punk,” Bucky sits up with a smile. “‘Bout time you woke up.”

Steve remains silent, eyes darting around the room as he considers the implications of Bucky being in the Tower. Questions race through his mind until he finally settles on the most important one. Everything else can wait.

“Darcy?”

Bucky turns contemplative. “She’s alive and stable, but...”

_Do not doubt now._

Steve nods, jaw tightening. "She'll come home."

He begins to shove his blankets off his legs, wincing at the pain. Bucky shakes his head, putting his arm on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Stand down, Steve. There’s nothing you can do for her right now with how bruised you are,” he says. Steve sits back with a grimace.

“How long have I been out?” he asks.

“About a week. Everyone else woke up within a day, but everyone else didn’t take the brunt of six Infinity Stones power blasting them into a cliff face either,” Bucky manages a tone blended with humor and resignation. “You’re lucky you only have several fractures.”

“What else did I miss?” he asks.

Bucky begins to talk. He tells Steve of the Soul Realm, the vast landscape of nothing except for an almost amber hue, people milling around in fear and confusion. Dr. Strange, a man that Steve has only heard about through Tony and Bruce, gathering them there to wait. Of Bucky’s surprise when Darcy arrived, shining brightly like a beacon of hope, and the demons that appeared to seek her. How they were souls encased in doubt, falling into despair, which Bucky almost succumbed to himself.

“I went down a path I’ve always avoided, Steve,” he admits quietly. “I had never looked too hard because it terrified me.”

“What path?” Steve asks.

“The blood red of my Matching,” Bucky says. “As I fell into that despair, I was hurting my Match. It called her to me through such a distance. Darcy helped bridge the distance so she could find me.”

“Your mark...” Steve begins, uncertain of how to ask the question in a tactful way. Bucky shrugs.

“My String never worked right. Possibly because fate knew I’d lose my arm. Or perhaps because I lost it before she was born. Natalia remembers always having a mark but pretending not to,” Bucky explains. Steve feels his eyebrows raise.

“Right... Natasha. Natasha is your Match. That explains Clint-”

“Is he usually such an asshole? I keep getting some disapproving older brother vibes from him,” Bucky complains.

“Are all the dusted back?” Steve ignores the question, thinking about Clint’s family.

Bucky nods. “Barton took off as soon as he woke up to head home, his wife and kids all back safe and sound. Natalia’s been impatiently waiting for your ass to wake up so we could head off after him, I guess. ‘Auntie Nat’ has been highly requested.”

“Everyone else?”

“For the most part, yes,” Bucky says before frowning, struggling over his next words. “Ah... there is a woman, Gamora, who showed up in the Soul Realm fairly early on.”

“Thanos’ other daughter?” Steve asks. “Rocket spoke of her and Nebula seemed rather fixated on her.”

“Yeah. She was tasked to give mercy to those who would not survive the return. It has been confirmed by numerous accounts, but the most obvious corroborating evidence is those who were mid-flight. Those people did not reappear at unspeakable heights to fall to their deaths.”

The thought is so morbid that Steve can’t blame Bucky for the hesitation in explaining.

“Gamora’s return has been the one thing that none of us, especially her, expected,” Bucky states.

“Why?” Steve asks. “We only had conjecture of her dying...”

“Thanos threw her off a cliff as a sacrifice for the Soul Stone. She was _very_ dead before he combined the power of the stones.”

As Steve ponders this information, a new question on his lips, a knock at the door precedes the appearance of Sam, whose eyebrows raise in surprise.

“You’re up! Christ, Barnes, you couldn’t have hit the call button or anything? People have been worried about him,” Sam grumbles as he steps closer. “How are you feeling, Steve?”

Steve begins to shrug but lets out a hiss of pain as the motion causes pain to shoot up his body.

“Sound about right,” Sam grins. “Natasha is looking for you, Barnes.”

Bucky sends Sam a disbelieving look before finally rolling his eyes and heading towards the door. “Sure. I’ll be back.”

“How’d I end up here in the Tower?” Steve asks.

“Welllll, after we picked ourselves up and realized what had happened, everyone seemed to be mostly okay. Even you, all fractured to the suicidal core of you, were relatively fine,” Sam explains, considering his next words carefully. “However, while the impact you took for Darcy against that cliff helped alleviate the damage she took, her internal organs were a mess. Strange froze her at that moment and instantly set a portal to take her to St. Generals. Which, y’know, the man was a renowned surgeon, it makes sense he’d go to those he trusted.”

Steve frowns. “Bucky said she was stable-”

“T’Challa and the rest of us were trying to figure out what the next steps should be when Tony woke up and pitched a fit,” Sam continues. “We all were on the _Commodore_ within the hour. We just assumed he needed to see Pepper or something, but he diverted the ship to St. Generals and wheeled you right up next to Darcy. The jump in her vitals gave everyone quite a bit of hope, but it wasn’t enough to wake her. However, she’s on the mend with Dr. Palmer's amazing work, despite being comatose still.”

“Strange just let Tony barge in?” Steve asks, feeling a bit concerned at the thought of being carted all sorts of places without his knowledge.

“Are you kidding? Strange took one look at Tony and checked his goddamn _watch_. ‘Right on schedule,’ were his words,” Sam replies. “Then Tony and Strange argued for a while and Tony got his way and you both were brought here. I’d say it was the extravagant amount of money Tony threw at Dr. Palmer to come temporarily work at the Tower, but really, she looked like she was enjoying the thought of annoying Strange more than anything.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She made a comment about how Strange’s watch is _definitely_ broken,” Sam grins. “So we shouldn’t rely on his idea of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _hoping_ I'm not missing anything particularly vital. Some things are kind of purposefully shoved aside, for whatever potential one-shots that might appear in my brain later, but I think most of the questions are being answered here. Obviously, we still have a bit more of Darcy to look out for.
> 
> Also, the last chapter is expanding out of control. Woops. :x


	32. Chapter 32

The travel through dimensions is fairly straightforward with the Space Stone leading Darcy where the Stones have determined they need to go. They have already placed the Power and Soul stone in other spots, their respective worlds so out of Darcy’s experience that she couldn’t even begin to describe them. 

The set of Stones bring Darcy to a large pit on a world that is illuminated by a large moon off its horizon. The Time, Mind, and Space Stone seem ambivalent to Darcy, displaying their power without care, and Darcy realizes that she can barely understand what is happening anyway. But, unlike putting the Power and Soul Stones to rest, the Reality Stone is _angry_. It thrashes inside her palm, desperately trying to dig into her skin that sizzles in denial. 

_It wants to be with its siblings, not banished. Why is it banished?_

“Hunger dangerous,” comes the answer from the wispy form of Mind behind her. “Unleashed, sows discord.”

Darcy sighs. Despite knowing better of how it scarred Jane, a small sympathetic part of her wishes she could choose something different. The Reality Stone takes advantage of the small vulnerability with a wave of ruby color.

It shoves her into a scene of a hospital room, a young version of her mother holding a bundle and cooing down into it. Darcy blinks in surprise, drinking in the sight, realizing it’s hours within her birth. The adoration on her mother’s face causes tears to spring to Darcy’s eyes instantly, realizing just how loved she was despite all their struggles. Suddenly, a much younger Tony, carefree in his stance, appears in the doorway knocking softly.

_Wait, what?_

Sandra Lewis glances up, eyes widening. “Eddie...”

“Was I never going to hear about this little development?” Tony accuses. “Not until the lawyers came knocking?”

“You disappeared,” Darcy’s mother refutes. A moment passes where Darcy wonders if her mother is going to cry. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Sandy,” Tony begins. “That doesn’t mean you leeches don’t _try_.”

_This doesn’t sound right..._

A tear slips down her mother's cheek and Darcy feels a stab of rejection. This is exactly what she feared, her father finding out about her with such derision.

“How... how did you find out?” Sandra asks softly, a large sniff escaping her as she tries to regulate her emotions. “I-I-I tried to-”

“Family friend looks out for me. He kept tabs on you that night, and I’m glad he did. Who knows what rot you’d throw at the paparazzi for a payout?” Tony hisses out.

“Payout?” Sandra whispers, confusion apparent.

Tony’s gaze narrows. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it with a frown, then looks around.

“All right. Fine. You play your games. But if I ever see or hear from you again, I’ll bring your whole world down on you.”

Darcy recoils, completely taken aback by the venom in Tony’s voice. 

_That isn’t Tony._

The thought strikes her and both of her parents turn sharply to look directly at her, expressions mirroring loathing. Darcy takes a step back, chilled by the disgust in both of their eyes. A sensation that Darcy can’t describe hits her mark, almost like it’s offering reassurance.

_No. This didn’t happen._

Tony steps forward. Darcy pulls on her mark, hoping to end the strange fabricated reality she’s witnessing.

_Tony didn’t know! You are just fucking with me because you're angry!_

Darcy shoves against the Reality Stone right as it recalculates, turning the scenery into another century. She clings her arms to herself as the temperature drops and snow is everywhere. The parked cars are dated, so she realizes Reality has pulled her further into a sort of past. There’s a sign above her head that points her into the building, the name obscured with snow, and she doesn’t hesitate climbing up the step to push herself inside. The warmth seeps into her, soft piano giving a cozy ambiance, and she can see the room is filled to the brim of uniformed military personnel.

_Oh, for goodness sake._

Men instantly begin approaching her and Darcy grimaces, shoving past them to get to the bar. Reaching the relative safety of a barstool, the accent of the bartender makes her realize she’s likely in France. Ordering a glass of water to the bartender's annoyance, she glances around in wonder.

She almost slips off her stool when she spies Steve, his familiar broad form in a pristine uniform, at a table with a bunch of other men who are haphazardly attired. After a confused moment where she feels she should know them, they all cheer and down their glasses. 

_The Howling Commandos._

Peering closer at them, she realizes that she’s practically staring through Bucky. He's seated at the bar and blocking the direct sightline to them, his face turned down into his glass.

“Yes, it’s Captain America. Keep your panties on,” Bucky grumbles.

Darcy’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised at the grumpiness in his voice, despite how familiar it is. Before she can reply, a glass of water appears in front of her and Steve approaches Bucky to slap him on the shoulder, taking a seat next to him. 

Their ensuing conversation washes over her as she watches them interact. Darcy is still waiting for the shoe to drop, however, as the Reality Stone would not show her such a scene without a reason. Suddenly, the music stutters to a stop and a woman in a deep red dress appears.

“Agent Carter,” Steve says as both he and Bucky stand to greet the woman.

Darcy feels her eyes widen. The woman is by all accounts a legend and Darcy suddenly realizes that the records of Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter were woefully understated.

She can feel a sort of smugness of the Reality Stone. Darcy frowns. The interaction between the three adults is cordial and downright flirtatious from Carter to Steve, not surprising to Darcy in the least. Carter excuses herself and the pair of men turn back to the bar, sitting back down.

“If you don’t go after her, I’m going to think you never learned anything from me,” Bucky mutters into his glass.

Steve hesitates as if the thought of the woman having any interest in him is foreign. Darcy tilts her head, eyes narrowed. She and Steve had never touched on his past relationships, but Peggy Carter had been linked with him in every war history book Darcy could remember reading. 

_Did you think this would work, you silly stone? Trying to make me jealous?_

Darcy slides off her stool, walking the few steps to the military pair. Steve suddenly stands, almost knocking into her as he grabs her arm to steady her.

“Oh, excuse me, miss,” Steve says, eyes gliding right past her as he steps around and dashes off. A pang of disappointment hits Darcy and she frowns. Shaking her head, she feels that same reassurance in her mark and draws from it.

“Get used to it, sister,” Bucky says.

Darcy shrugs before dropping into the seat Steve vacated. Pulling on the sleeve of her sweater, she can see her mark shimmer.

“It’s alright. My day is on him already. It’s not his fault it’s too early,” she murmurs.

The Reality Stone shoves her in a fit of pique out of the bar, right into a private hallway. Steve is locking lips with Carter and struggling with the knob on the door.

Darcy feels a snap of irritation inside of herself.

_Enough! I don’t begrudge him for having a past, but holy shit do I not need to see it!_

She shoves that feeling out, propelled by the comfort her mark is giving her. 

_This reality isn't real! It's fabricated! But even if it isn’t, it’s from a past long gone!_

Steve and Carter turn to stare at her with the same disgust her mother and Tony had been wearing previously and she glares right back at them.

_You aren’t going to change my mind with bullshit like this!_

Darcy can feel the writhing rage as she pushes back against the Reality Stone. Steve and Carter disappear in smoke, the scenery changing back to the dark pit she’d been standing at this entire time. This time she refuses to hesitate and throws it in angrily. There’s a rush of reassurance from behind her as she feels the three Stone’s approval. 

_No wonder they shun it, it fuels hate._

“Correct. Dangerous hunger.”

Darcy glances at the Mind Stone’s form of Vision and wrinkles her nose. She wipes her hands together and turns to look at the wispy beings. “What now?”

“Return home.”

“Cool beans, let’s go. I’m tired of you Stones’ fucking shenanigans,” Darcy grumbles. There’s a hesitation that ripples through the area and she frowns.

“You... not of us.”

“Pardon?” Darcy feels her heart sink in her gut. “Of course I’m not like you, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Not infinite. Breakable.”

“The _fuck?_ ” Darcy exclaims.

“Bring home. But not home. Whiplash.”

“ _Whiplash?_ ” she screeches. “The hell does that mean?”

“Acclimate. Follow strand. Home.”

With those cryptic words, the three forms combine together around Darcy. Without warning, she feels the world spin and falls into endless darkness.

* * *

There is ground under her feet and she feels like she’s upright. She steps through the darkness, stumbling, the only light visible coming from the strand leading off her mark. It leads her in a direction that initially felt left, but could be right, because what does direction mean in a place like this anyway?

Suddenly, it’s like she pushes through a cloud and finds herself in a room, stumbling through what seems to be a kitchen table. There’s a little blond boy who sits at it, kicking his feet against his chair legs, while his mother looks over at him in worry as he eats his sandwich. Darcy’s ungraceful entrance goes unnoticed as they ignore her completely.

_Can’t see me. Okay._

The mark on her wrist seems to point at him, confusing Darcy acutely.

_Steve?_

Stepping closer, the mark on her wrist suddenly spins around like a confused compass, redirecting Darcy away from the child. The Stones’ instructions begin to make a bit more sense now, and Darcy is glad she’s not about to muck about with Steve’s life through time. She can’t help but smile at him as she begins to depart.

_Such a sweet boy._

Darcy takes one last glance at him before pushing back into the darkness.

* * *

The next pocket Darcy pushes into is inside of a plane. The steel cage must be flying through the sky if the roar of the engines is any indication. Following her strand, she finds herself walking through a bulkhead doorway into the cockpit where Steve sits at the helm.

_Where is everyone else?_

Wind is whipping through the cabin, not helping the sound situation, and she can see he’s staring determinedly out of the window that has an alarming amount of land in it. 

_Oh. Oh, shit._

Darcy runs forward to Steve, her mark connecting to the moment and spinning around once again. It lands in a direction but Darcy hesitates, looking at Steve’s grave expression. He can’t see her yet again.

_No one should do this alone._

Darcy sits down, resting a hand on his arm. Steve’s expression clears a bit as if knowing comfort is in the peripherals. She watches the icy floor meet the plane and the impact tosses her right back into the darkness once again.

* * *

The strand leading her seems almost confused this time. It leads her in one direction for a time before almost completely turning her around. Darcy can only guess there’s a maze of time that she’s being pulled through and there’s not really any other option but to keep going.

Darcy begins to wonder what sort of form she’s holding right now.

_I don’t feel hungry or thirsty. I have no real needs. All I want to do is sleep._

Every time she begins to get drowsy, however, she tugs on her mark and it’s like there’s a power to draw from there. Darcy isn’t sure what would happen if she managed to fall asleep here, so she uses it sparingly, uncertain of how long the help will even last.

A new type of sound hits Darcy’s ears and she feels like sobbing in relief. There are cars everywhere, the busy street of Times Square familiar to her despite not having had the time to explore it herself. There are a number of giant signs and the towering buildings make her realize that she’s finally in a century she recognizes.

Steve is in the middle of the street, a bunch of nondescript luxury vehicles blocking him in while a man wearing an eyepatch talks to him.

_Steve’s just woken up. He’s panicked._

Walking up to Steve, she confirms that her mark spins again before leading her on to the next spot of time. Brushing her hand over his wrist, not expecting the many people to see her, she smiles as Steve frowns but seems to calm. With that done, Darcy pushes on into the darkness, wanting to get home as fast as she can.

* * *

A metal fist flies through the air in front of her face and Darcy yelps. The move is almost instantly dodged and then returned, Darcy stepping back as she finds herself next to a deadly dance of violence.

She mostly reads the fear on Steve’s face, the shock that someone is keeping up with him, possibly _better_ than him, before turning to his attacker and feeling her jaw drop.

The attacker is _undoubtedly_ Bucky.

A few more jabs and suddenly Bucky is tossed in the air, landing in a graceful roll. He stands, sending the most disconnected look Darcy thinks ever seen him wear, his mask removed from his face.

“Bucky?” Steve asks.

Darcy glances over at him and can see how Steve instantly stands down, disoriented with confusion. Her mark connects with Steve before beginning it’s mad spin again, almost tugging her out. 

_Shit, this was how they found out Bucky survived falling?_

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Sam appears to knock Bucky over and before Darcy realizes it, a blast hits under her feet and she’s knocked back into the darkness.

* * *

Darcy can see the temperature has dropped to unspeakably low levels, but fortunately can’t feel the effects. There’s an instant tension in the air as she sees Tony and Steve considering an outdated television, Bucky watching the perimeter with an energy of a nervous cat.

“ _Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, did you know?_ ” Tony’s voice is quiet, too quiet, and Darcy hears alarm bells go off in her head.

_Shit shit shit shit._

The short guilty nod of Steve is something that Darcy wholly expects, knowing exactly where this scene leads. Tony steps back, expression utterly gutted. Darcy can see when the thread of control snaps and he punches Steve’s face.

Darcy rushes over to Steve, watching her mark swing around before dancing off, and looks up to see Bucky running away with Tony in hot pursuit. As Steve gets up to try to follow, the scene closes and Darcy finds herself in darkness once again.

* * *

The darkness parts in a strange way this time. Instead of her stumbling into lighted scenes, there’s a sort of glow in the horizon and a soft sound.

_Beep. Beep. Beep_

Relief hits Darcy as she sees her mark lead her to Steve once again, working on something on a laptop in the corner of what she can see of a room, but his own mark branches off into her body that lays on a familiar bed. Darcy realizes she’s in her room at Avengers Tower. There is a handful of equipment attached to her body yet again, a strange contrast to the knickknacks she left in her room. Darcy waits, she feels the edges of her home realm tingle as she slowly begins to acclimate back.

It feels like an age since she’s been here.

As time passes, more of the room reveals itself to her. Darcy can see her body is tucked into her bed in the cozy suite she lived at when she worked with Jane at the Tower. Her body is wearing a plain t-shirt and her hair is pulled to the side and plaited which surprises her. 

_When did my hair get that long again?_

“Knock knock,” a voice calls as they rap against the bedroom door. Darcy turns to see Natasha appear at the foot of the bed with an item bundled in her hand. “She looks brighter today.”

“Yeah. She should be back soon,” Steve says firmly as he closes his laptop and stands.

“You’ve said that almost every day for two months, Steve,” Natasha eyes him in concern. “Are you sure?”

 _Two months?_ Darcy reels. 

Steve rubs a hand over his face and nods. “Y’know, it’s just a longer duration of waiting on the floor at her door. Just had Jane as a gatekeeper then...”

“Speaking of, where is Jane?” Natasha glances around. “I have a gift from Pepper which would be easier with her help.”

 _A gift?_ Darcy perks.

“What gift?” Steve asks, eyeing her bundle suspiciously.

“Something for the party tonight. Darcy deserves to be included even if she can’t head up there with us,” Natasha unwraps the item revealing a deep blue blouse.

Jane bursts into the scene from the edge of darkness that’s still creeping back from Darcy’s body.

“Oh good, Natasha, you’re here. Out, Steve! We have things to prepare!” Jane grabs at the man’s arm and yanks hard. Steve looks bewildered at the sheer force that the tiny Jane is able to employ as she begins to eject him from the room and opens his mouth.

“But I-”

“Tony wants to go over the itinerary for the night, better get on that before we have strippers popping out of cakes or something,” Jane cuts over his protest. “Although, he might have a point that it could annoy Darcy into waking up.”

Steve wears a beleaguered expression as he exits. “I told him _no birthday celebrations!_ ”

_Oh. Fourth of July. I meant to do something special for Steve’s one hundredth._

The room dims a bit at his departure and Darcy feels a wave of fatigue roll over her. Something feels safe about the room, the concern over falling asleep seeming unimportant.

Natasha’s eyebrows raise as she watches Jane close the door behind him. “Do I want to know?”

Darcy misses Jane’s response as she feels her eyes droop. The scene begins to smooth into a lull. She decides to sit down, watching their ministrations for a few moments before shutting her eyes.

* * *

A bustle of moving her body somehow shakes awareness into Darcy. After Jane leaves, Darcy notices that her comatose body now has a new top on in a deep shimmering blue, and her hair is pulled out of the braid into soft waves. 

The spy seems to fidget with the careworn bedcovers, snagging Darcy’s attention with a tilted head.

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for your help with Bucky,” Natasha whispers. Darcy blinks at the admission, not expecting anything of the sort. “We just jumped from you helping with my mark to you passing out as Thanos arrived. It was good that you could connect us. It’s still...”

Natasha breaks off, shaking her head with a smile. “I can imagine what you will say when you wake up. But... while it’s slow, there _is_ progress.”

“Natalia? You here?” Bucky appears in the doorway and the room expands once again. Darcy marvels at the sight of her dresser finally added in.

_Everyone who’s coming is strengthening my connection._

Darcy flexes her hand, feeling her body that much closer. The revelation causes her to smile with happy tears in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” Natasha replies, squeezing Darcy’s hand.

_I can feel that._

“Darcy okay? Steve was spitting mad when I saw him a second ago...” Bucky asks with an unveiled concern.

“She’s fine. Fabulous, even,” Natasha motions to her body. “We thought she’d appreciate dressing up for the party as well.”

“Looking good,” Bucky gives a crooked smile as he steps closer to Natasha unsurely. Darcy frowns at the space still between them, but another wave of fatigue rolls over her and she sits back down next to her body.

_I’ll figure them out later._

The soft conversation that Bucky and Natasha hold blend into the ambient noises of the room and Darcy finds herself falling asleep again.

* * *

The next time she wakes, the room is quiet. Shaking herself a bit, she sits up to look around. Steve is sitting in the chair next to her bed and Darcy can see the constant assurance of their connection pulsing. She scoots over to him to peer at the spine of the book in his hands, the words _The Return of the King_ legible there.

Another knock and the room blooms in more focus for Darcy. Valkyrie sticks her head in from the shadows.

“Oh, hey,” Valkyrie says as she walks the rest of the way in. “Lookin’ good, Darcy.”

Steve gives her a wary look as he sets down his book. “You and Thor are heading out tomorrow with the Guardians, right?”

“Yeah. We’ll be at the party tonight but I won’t have time to pop in to say goodbye to her later, so here I am,” Valkyrie kneels next to the bed and lowers her voice. “Be well, Lady Darcy. I’ll show you a _really_ good time when I get back and you’re all better.”

Steve narrows his gaze as Darcy’s soul snorts loudly, which causes Valkyrie to tilt her head. A small smile blooms on the Asgardians face. Leaning over, Valkyrie kisses both of the invalid Darcy’s cheeks.

“See ya,” she murmurs again before turning to Steve. “Keep an eye out on her, she’s trouble.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Pretty sure you only encourage it.”

Valkyrie shrugs unapologetically as she leaves.

Darcy feels an overwhelming desire to cry. The visits from all of her friends holding vigil over her body that’s shown no sign of improving. She could be like this for years if the slow creep of awareness to her body is any indication.

Darcy has no real way of knowing.

_Maybe if I find Wong or Strange they could help me into my body._

The thought hits her suddenly and she jumps up to try to leave the room. Pushing past where she thinks her door is, the light of her room stays static as she shoves into the darkness. There is nothing to grab, nothing to see, no landmarks of any kind to navigate towards the Sanctum. A sharp pull on her arm turns her around so she can survey the scene she’s trying to leave.

Steve winces, glancing at her body in concern as he rubs his wrist where his mark is. The monitors set up next to her bed beep in an erratic pattern. The light of the room flickers like a dying candle for a moment and Darcy is hit with a stab of panic.

_Guess that’s a no. This must be different from the Astral Projection they cited._

“Correct,” Mistress Death voice calls through the shadows with a frown and Darcy can feel the Mistress nudge her back to the light. “You aren’t back in your body, yet, Darcy. You can’t project yourself from someplace you haven’t taken repossession of yet.”

_Oh. Makes sense._

“Indeed,” Mistress Death says. “This is the last we will see each other for quite some time. Do you wish to know anything?”

Darcy considers. Questions swirl around her head. A set of medical personnel appears as they try to calm her body down. Steve steps aside for them, showcasing the window as his form is by far the brightest in the room.

_Did it work?_

“Yes.”

_How?_

“In gathering all of the strands of peoples marks, you twisted them together into a braid of unspeakable strength. The network of everyone you added in diluted the power of the Infinity Stones to make their power manageable and then you caught Thanos with it. The Stones have taken him as a prisoner as payment for all the souls he dusted, bringing them back.”

_Everyone?_

“Apart from those that Gamora gathered, yes.”

_What about the crops?_

“They are renewed. You need not fear, Darcy. All is well.”

Darcy glances as the redheaded woman bursts into the room, wearing a lab coat with a name tag declaring ‘Dr. Palmer’, and frowns. The doctor seems almost frantic in her ministrations to Darcy’s body.

_Really?_

“This will take time, as you have traveled far.”

_The Stones couldn’t have done me a favor after what I did for them?_

“You are not infinity, Darcy, and cannot be treated as such. The force of propelling you back here could have caused you to cease to exist.”

_Oh._

“Have no worries. You will return soon enough. Farewell, Darcy Lewis,” Mistress Death says as she nods her head. The shadowed woman disappears.

Darcy glances at Steve and can see the worry building in his expression. She stands next to him, running her hand on their mark, and Darcy’s body calms. 

_Well, glad I’m helping somehow. No more gallivanting off trying to fix this myself, I guess. Just have to wait._

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Steve asks the doctor.

“I feel like I should be asking you that question,” Dr. Palmer says calmly as she administers a shot into the IV. “I’ve never seen someone improve so much from the sheer vicinity of their Match.”

“My mark’s been pulsing a bit today, more than usual, but I didn’t think much of it,” he replies. “Something is telling me she’s close, but if her body is getting worse...”

“This isn’t anywhere _close_ to worse. The worst was when Stephen appeared with her in May. You do realize all of her internal organs were crushed, right?” Dr. Palmer throws a look over her shoulder in disbelief. 

_How the fuck did I survive that?_

“Yes, I believe it’s been mentioned more than once as I was the one cushioning her when-” Steve sighs, obviously tired of being reminded of the fact.

“And it’s a goddamn miracle that her body facilitated to surgery so well,” Dr. Palmer continues. “So she’s being a little grumpy today, whatever. The only thing wrong with her now is that she’s not waking up, which is a medical mystery at this point as her body is in more than prime condition.”

Steve frowns. “What do you mean?”

_Yeah, what?_

“Strange knows more than I do. He always does,” she grumbles reluctantly. “You should just ask him.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck in frustration but nods. “Understood.”

_No, no, no, what? What’s up with my body, doc?_

“If you’ll excuse me,” she mutters before pausing at the door. “Page me if you get any more ‘pulses’.” 

Steve gives a nod and sits back down next to her body, frowning as he pulls a phone out of his pocket to text something. Darcy sits down next to him on the bed and sighs.

She just feels so tired.

* * *

Waking up next to her own face is a bit disorientating, but she’s also curled up like a cat next to her body without an ache in her back, so it’s already a bizarre situation.

Dr. Strange is there, scrutinizing Steve. Steve is wearing a steely expression and Darcy sits up.

_What on earth now?_

“I don’t understand how that’s possible,” Steve finally says.

“Fortunately, these results don’t rely on your understanding,” Strange bites out, tossing a StarkPad on the bed. “However it came to be, it is true, I took the scans myself. I would only assume that the rigorous physical examination they took of you after you were, erm, freed from the ice would be accurate.”

Darcy peers over the test results, trying to make sense of them.

“She’s the picture of health, Captain Rogers,” Dr. Strange states. “It should be considered good news.”

“Of course it’s good news, I just...” Steve seems to struggle a moment before shaking his head. “Thank you. I appreciate you telling me.”

Dr. Strange nods and turns to leave through an orange portal he opens. He exits with a crack.

Darcy is still frowning at the results.

_They took some samples from me... and compared them to Steve?_

The sheer amount of medical jargon overwhelms her and she lays back down.

_In true Scarlett O’Hara fashion... I’ll think about that tomorrow._

* * *

“...don’t worry, Rogers, I’ll hang out with her.”

The sound of Tony’s voice startles her awake once again. She’s disorientated, uncertain of the time as it’s all been a blur since she found her body anyways. Steve is still in his relaxed outfit, his book put to the side, so she assumes it’s still the same day.

Steve sighs. “It’s going to be a quick moment, you know.”

“Just get up there. You’re the birthday boy, after all,” Tony waggles his eyebrows at Steve, who simply groans as he exits the room. The fluttering of light as he leaves is shored by the lightness of Tony sitting down in the chair next to her body.

“Hey Half Pint,” Tony leans over to speak a bit softer as he scoots the chair over. “I just joked about getting him strippers, y’know. No, he’ll just find old veteran friends and some of that brandy Valkyrie introduced to us. Has a bit more punch.”

Darcy smiles, the thought of Steve drunk humorous. She can feel connections clicking into place and opens her mouth in surprise. The weight of her soul feels heavier than before as if gravity is pulling her towards her body.

“You should see how we’re getting along. I even let Steve have his emotional support buddy,” Tony continues with a wince. “Who sticks to floors I’m not occupying like it’s his day job.”

Darcy frowns, disliking the idea of Bucky having to skulk around.

_I need to wake up so I can help._

Her vitals fluctuate a bit and Tony glances up in alarm.

“Don’t be like that, Darcy, it’s...” Tony sighs. “It’s the best I can do right now, okay?”

Darcy sighs herself, the weight of the room pressing down on her more. It shimmers into more focus, shoving the darkness completely away, leaving the entire room to her view.

“Tony Stark!” Jane is at the doorway in a deep red cocktail dress. “You march right back up to that party right now!”

Tony winces to Darcy’s delight. She’s reminded of the hazy moment months ago when Darcy arrived at the Tower with Jane from Amsterdam with broken ribs. Darcy never did quite figure out where Jane found that sledgehammer.

“Foster-”

“No! You go _extricate_ poor Steve from those women or I swear to-” 

“They’re not strippers!” he refutes.

Jane levels him with a look.

“Are you _absolutely sure?_ ” she asks in a deceptively soft voice.

Tony’s eyes widen. “Goddamnit.”

Darcy bursts out laughing, not even bothered by the idea of Steve being potentially molested by overenthusiastic women. The terror on Tony’s face is priceless.

He jumps up, rushing out of the room, muttering under his breath. “Pep’s gonna kill me. Or at the very least maim-”

Jane sighs, coming into the room to sit next to Darcy’s body.

Darcy can’t stop laughing, wishing she could follow Tony but settles for picturing the abject terror on Steve’s face and Tony’s shuffling the women out as he tries to avoid Pepper’s wrath.

“I bet Clint switched the dancers with strippers,” Jane murmurs under her breath as she adjusts the covers over Darcy’s body. “He knew when to head out with the kids to do sparklers on the patio.”

_Smart._

Darcy wishes she could respond to her best friend. Jane is frowning at the blanket, fidgeting with a knot that is caught there.

“I don’t know what to do, Darcy,” she admits softly. “Thor leaves tomorrow, a plan with a clear start and finish but I feel this sinking certainty that he’s just going to disappear again.”

_Oh, Jane._

“I know, it’s different now. His people are in Norway and they’ve been given the approval to remain there. He has to come back and be their King. But...” Jane sighs, rubbing her brow. “That presents entirely different problems.”

Darcy shuffles closer to try to rest her hand on Jane, but her soul passes through. Jane remains unaware and Darcy sighs in disappointment. Suddenly, a booming sound is heard and Jane jumps up to the window to throw the curtains back.

The rainbow of fireworks explode outside of the Tower, a safe distance away, illuminating the room. Darcy finds herself standing next to Jane at the window, smiling in delight.

_Trust Tony to make tonight a real occasion._

A shiver passes over her as she glances at her friend. They had been through so much together, a strange sort of kinship born of inexplicable circumstance, and Darcy’s content knowing that even with being in limbo... Jane is alright.

A cough at the door causes both of them to turn. Steve stands there, looking a bit ruffled but relatively unscathed. He nods at Jane.

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Steve says softly as he steps in. Jane shrugs.

“Of course,” she replies which prompts Darcy to frown in confusion. When had Jane become so amicable towards Steve?

“Thor was looking for you,” Steve says as he walks to stand next to the bed, looking down at Darcy’s body with a sad fondness. Jane shrugs.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “I can stay for a bit longer...”

“No, you should head back. We’ll watch the fireworks from here,” he replies without turning.

Jane nods, retracing her steps out of the room and Darcy is left with Steve. He brushes fingertips against her body’s face, pulling her hair back, before finally walking over to the window to look out.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up!_

Darcy jumps over to the bed, straddling her body. She tries to pick up her shoulders to shake them but huffs in annoyance when her hands pass right through.

_I want to wake up._

Desperation takes over her as Steve sighs from his position, fireworks still bursting in the night.

_I don’t want to wait anymore!_

Darcy begins punching at her body in frustration, not noticing how her entire soul shivers in response.

 _I want to breathe. I want to talk. I want to hug and kiss and **love**._

A spike hits her in the chest and she feels a strange sensation of falling. The colors in the room blur as the world begins to spin. Doubt spreads through her mind as she clings to her body with her soul's fingertips, uncertain if she’s pushed herself too far.

_I want to live._

The light of the room suddenly goes out and she’s dragged down into the darkness.

* * *

_Boom._

As her soul enters her body, the sounds of the fireworks outside hit her ears and she feels a smile grow on her face. Struggling for a moment, she slowly opens her eyes.

Steve is still standing at the window, his back turned to her as he looks at the fireworks outside. The light reflects around his body and she feels a tired smile grow on her face. Darcy slowly reaches over to her left arm to brush her fingers along her mark, the slight sound obscured by the explosions still firing, strumming the strand that’s shooting out towards him.

He jumps, turning quickly to glance at her. Steve practically trips over himself in the rush to drop down to the ground next to the bed. His hands cup her face and brush her hair from her eyes as he’s laughing and crying in joy.

“ _Steve_ ,” Darcy whispers in relief. “I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS WE MADE IT. IT'S DONE. WHAT DO I DO WITH MYSELF?
> 
> This chapter exploded a bit, as I try to stay over 3k words but under 5k. Well, it's the end, so you get a nice 6k to work with. :) I hope that the Reality Stone's actions aren't too jarring, as they hurt me to write, but that stone is _mean_ and they all couldn't be easy for Darcy to place. Like I said before, there are still some loosish ends, but oneshots could be in the horizon if I ever decide to sneak back into this universe again.
> 
> I started this fic after the two long week mourning period of Infinity War's release. I was content with the idea of letting it be, but then one day realized I _had_ the tools to fix it, and would regret not trying. Six months later and I had a decent chunk written, but it even exploded beyond my initial projections.
> 
> I hope to _never_ attempt a fic quite like this again, however, as 4 POV characters with another 8 characters on a daily shuffle and 20+ in the background... holy moly, it's very hard to do, especially with trying to do it all before Endgame comes out and mucks with my headcanons again. I know I kind of shuffled friendships and scenes to the side that didn't pertain to the general plot though, so again, might revisit with some missing moments later. 
> 
> Thank you ALL you lovely commenters giving me so much lovely encouragement through this process. It's been an absolute joy sharing my musings with you. :)
> 
> Happy early Captain Marvel viewing! And good luck to us all through Endgame.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments make my world go round. <3


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